Shedding Skin
by Lizzy De Bellezza
Summary: In the face of the Dark Lord rising again, Draco Malfoy is fighting his own war against himself. His dignity and sanity are wavering under this new task he has been asked to perform, but what sends him over the edge is a certain bushy-haired Hermione, reminding him that love can be found even in the darkest of times, and shouldn't be overlooked by pride.
1. Chapter 1

**_Author's_ Note:** Hi everyone! So this is my new story. I know, I know. I'm in the middle of my other story, _Black and Grey_, but I really wanted to try my hand at Dramione fanfic. So this story starts the summer of year six. Everything else is fair game, so if I go out of canon, just roll with it. I have a good feeling about this one, y'all. I hope you enjoy it.

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><p><strong>1.<strong>

_Of all of the species of venomous snakes in the entire world, only thirty of them have venom potent enough to kill a human being. _

He sat on his bed, straight up, shoulders back, constantly trying to swallow down the vomit that crept up his throat every thirty seconds. He was sure that his face was the same shade of green as his bed sheets as he heard the gut-wrenching clicking of heels climbing the stairs, and the sickening hissing sound his aunt made when she was giddy. If you would even call it that. He was not sure if his aunt was even able to feel regular human emotion anymore. Honestly, he was not sure if he was either.

His door creaked open slowly and his mother stood in the doorway, straightening out her white, wool pea coat and gesturing him to stand with her petite, gloved hand. Her sister stood behind her with her untamed black hair and wearing a blood curdling grin across her face. Draco looked in his mother's eyes as he stood, his features made completely of stone. He recognized she tried to mock his emotionless expression, but she let her lip quiver just slightly as he brushed past her and closed his bedroom door behind him.

He strolled through the sitting room and into the entry hall, his footfalls echoing off of every surface and reverberating against the twelve-foot ceilings. His father stood at the double doors at the front of the hall. Draco's shoulders tensed and he clenched his jaw as Lucius Malfoy reached out to touch his arm, as if he were attempting to extend a loving, fatherly gesture to his son. Draco turned away from him and locked arms with his mother. Lucius's face turned even paler than it had been. He had dark circles under his eyelids and he slumped over in fatigue. He attempted a smile at Narcissa, but she only looked forward and gripped Draco's wrist as they turned on a dime and disapparated from the manor.

Their feet met the hard, cobblestone street of the alley, and Draco's mother wobbled slightly as they stood in the shadows. She rubbed her thumb across the back of his hand gently, and he pulled away and headed toward Knockturn Alley. Bellatrix was skipping in front of him, humming something that barely had a tune and twirling in circles. Had any other person been acting this way, it would look sweet, charming, and maybe even a little whimsical. You would think that it was a good day. But when Bellatrix Lestrange acted this way, it was maniacal, disturbing, and it was not a good day for anyone with a soul. Draco looked away from her, disgusted at her mock girlishness. She was terrifying.

They stopped at a small store with dust covered windows and a broken door handle. He had been here before a few years ago, and frankly, he had no desire to ever go back. He felt the vomit rise in his throat again as they stepped inside and a stench of old blood and dirt filled his nostrils. He knew the smell of Fenrir Greyback. Bellatrix traipsed over to the front counter and dinged the bell annoyingly, and Greyback stepped out from behind a shelf.

"Ah, there he is. How's it, Draco?" He said as he strolled over and slapped Draco on the arm. Narcissa took a tiny step to her left, inching behind Draco's shoulder and looking toward the ground as she pursed her lips, pretending to examine a scuff on her tall, black boot.

"Greyback," he said emotionless. "I did not know you would be here." He pushed his shoulders back, puffing out his chest, aware that his mother was hiding behind him.

"I figured I would show up, considering I am a part of this little plan," He said with a low growl. Bellatrix rang the bell again, much more aggressively this time. "And what a clever plan it was. I'll have to congratulate Severus on his little idea next time I see him."

Narcissa stepped out from behind Draco. "And where is Severus?" Greyback looked toward her and a predatory flash raced behind his black eyes.

"He was needed _elsewhere_." He said, and a man emerged from the back of the store, hobbling toward them and breaking Fenrir Greyback's voracious stare.

"Ah, Borgin, so good to see you," Lucius said, breaking his attention away from an enchanted mirror and greeted the store owner, as if he were greeting an old friend.

"Yes, yes, hello, Lucius, and hello Draco! The man of the hour," Borgin said as he ignored Lucius's outstretched hand and patted Draco's shoulder. "Severus told me you would be by. Come, come. I keep it in the back." He gestured the lot to follow him and they snaked through the store, past severed hands in jars and mystical looking artifacts, and even a dark, mahogany box that appeared to be singing in Welsh. Draco reached out to touch it as he passed, but Borgin swatted his hand away. "Mustn't touch that one! There's a banshee in there. I just managed to get her to stop wailing a few hours ago." Draco furrowed his brow as he dipped his hand into his coat pocket.

They reached a doorway that was covered with a worn out, red Venetian curtain. Borgin gestured for them to enter the small room and inside was a tall, dark oak cabinet, that looked like it had just been polished.

"We came across this nearly twenty years ago. The owners, I must say, vanished without a trace just a few days before. That lovely opal

necklace over there belonged to them, too, but, I don't see that they will be using any of this stuff now. It needs to be repaired and all but—"

"How long?" Bellatrix interrupted harshly. Borgin looked taken aback. "How long until it is in working condition?" Borgin stuttered for a moment, fumbling for words to give her a response. "Answer me, you daft twit!"

"A few months!" He said shakily. "Maybe seven or eight. This is old magic. It will take time and skill to—"

"Well then I expect you to get to work as soon as we step foot out of this shop. If this cabinet is not in working order by the time we need it, I will not be the one to come after you, Borgin. He will." An eerie smile crept across her face that was a disgusting shade of yellow. Borgin nodded frantically in her direction, muttering 'yes ma'am,' and 'of course, right away.' Draco curled his lip at the sight of the shopkeeper. He was such a coward. Draco knew as much as anybody that you never let anyone see you being a coward.

They left the shop and headed toward Diagon Alley. Draco could tell his mother was a little more at ease now that the shadows of Knockturn Alley were behind them and they were now surrounded by people with non-murderous agendas.

"Alright, dear," she said with a sigh as she brushed some dust off of Draco's blazer. "Let's go into Madame Malkin's and get some new school robes for you. I swear you have grown a foot since last year!" She said, mustering as much of a smile as she could manage.

Draco huffed and walked quickly down the road, dodging people left and right. "Alright, but let's make it quick. I'm not in the mood to talk to anyone from that blasted school today."

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><p>"I can't believe that Mudblood girl!" Narcissa said in a huff as they apparated into the entry way of Malfoy Manor. "To think she would even <em>speak<em> to you." She threw her hands over her head and walked into the sitting room, her heels clicking across the hardwood pine floor, echoes trailing behind her.

"Yes, she is quite the know-it-all, self-righteous twat," Draco said as he draped his new robes across the arm-chair. Narcissa scoffed.

"You know I don't like it when you use such language, Draco. But I'll look past it today. That filthy Granger girl. Wouldn't it be nice if they would just take all their wands away and then burn them?"

"Burn their wands or burn the vile Mudbloods at the stake?" Draco joked.

"Either would do, really. The latter would be most suitable to me."

Narcissa made her way to the top of the staircase and her head began swimming as she grabbed the wall to steady herself. She hurried into the washroom and flung her head over the toilet bowl, waiting for the contents of her insides to spill out of her mouth. She wanted them to. She heaved for a moment, but the toilet water remained clear, untainted by the guilt she wanted purged from her stomach. She felt disgraceful. A single tear stained itself on her skin as it ran down her cheek and dripped into the toilet, a drop of black dispersing through the water from her mascara. She stood up shakily and gripped the sink, avoiding glancing into the mirror. She saw the bar of soap sitting in the holder on the edge of the sink. She remembered many years ago when she would make Draco suck on it when he said swear words in her presence. She wanted to put it in her own mouth, but she knew that would not make her feel any better. The words she said to Hermione Granger, and later to her son about Hermione Granger, tore her up from the inside. She had no cruel intentions toward muggle-borns, and pretending to be so hateful to another human being, especially one as pretty, level-headed, and bright as that Granger girl, made her wretch.

She found the courage to look herself in the mirror, to face the shell of a woman she had become; the woman who married a prejudiced bigot and raised her son, a brilliant, handsome young man, to hate instead of love. She wiped the tear stain from her porcelain cheek, and exited the bathroom, the clicking of her heels echoing in her ears and around the entire house.

Draco was standing at the end of the hall, his hands in his pockets and a stoic expression on his unflinching face. She hoped he could not tell that she had been crying. That a sliver of her humanity had escaped from her always statuesque façade. She opened her mouth to speak when Draco grabbed her and pulled her close to him. At first, she was a little startled and was stiff as he held her, but as Draco pulled her close to him her, being nearly a full foot taller than she was, she relaxed in his arms, and returned his embrace. Though it was the first, and probably only time he would embrace her like this, she relished in it. Her son loved her. He loved somebody, and that made her feel a little bit better. A small light in the middle of an endless pitch black, cloudy night. She thought she heard a muffled sob from Draco, and with that, he released her and went to his room, slamming his door behind him.

Draco kicked the trunk that set at the foot of his king-sized four-poster. His room was one of the biggest in the whole manor, but he felt like the walls were closing in on him, and he felt claustrophobic. He ripped his shirt off, trying to relieve the choking sensation he felt, like removing his pompous outfit would alleviate the suffocation he was feeling. The air was so thick and hot, he felt like he might pass out. Sweat gathered above his brow as he went to the window and flung it open. The air outside was dense and humid with summer, but it chilled him to the bone as the faint breeze drifted across his face. He felt his face become hot and he could feel the emotion of his situation rising up through his chest and into his neck. His vision became blurry but he blinked the tears away. He was not a coward. And if he was, he would not let it show, not even to himself.

There was a knock on Draco's bedroom door. He grabbed his shirt off the floor and threw it on, only managing a few buttons before the door flew open, and a wild-eyed Bellatrix stood in the doorway.

"Bloody hell!" Draco said, his voice cracking slightly as he attempted to smooth his hair down.

"I knocked," she said as she strolled into the room.

"Yes, but you don't just barge in!" Bellatrix shrugged as she walked up to him, straightening out the collar of his shirt as he fumbled with the rest of the buttons.

"Such a handsome boy," she said as she patted his cheek and licked her teeth. "Shame though." She turned her back to him and began fingering little trinkets on his shelves. Draco cleared his throat.

"What's a shame?" He said, this time controlling his tone.

"You're a coward, Draco," she sang impassively. Draco blinked a few times, wondering if he had really heard her correctly.

"Excuse me?" He said, taking a few steps toward her.

"I said you're a bloody coward!" She turned to him and shouted in his face, her wretched breath resting against his skin. "You think I don't see you, moping about the halls, dragging your feet, wandering around like a lost puppy. It makes me sick!" She spat. Draco looked straight ahead. Bellatrix was the same height as his mother, and he stood a whole head above her, but there was nobody who could make him feel smaller. More insignificant. Like less than a person.

"You're wrong," he said, unflinching.

"Then prove me wrong!" She continued to shout. "You will kill that awful, sanctimonious man and you will bask in it. You will bathe in his death. You will sit at the Dark Lord's side and he will look upon you in gratitude. Or you will die. And I will be the one to kill you." Draco swallowed hard as Bellatrix circled him. "You are my nephew, Draco, and although I adore you like all aunts adore their nephews, there is no place in the ranks for cowards." Her last word was like a knife she dug into his side and twisted around. She gave one last hiss in his ear and then swept out of the room like a phantom. Draco gripped the rail of his bed and leaned against it, unable to keep himself steady as the walls closed in even more on him.

Narcissa closed her bedroom door quietly, the latch clicking into place with a light _clunk_. She reached her hand between the mattress and the bed frame and pulled out a small, leather-bound book with paper spilling out of it. She sat on the edge of the bed, stifling a sniffle, and rifled through the loose papers in the book. She rested her hand on an envelope that said 'Cissy' on the front written in delicate cursive handwriting. She ran her fingertips over her name and the gently pulled the letter out of the envelope. She carefully unfolded the paper, whose inky words had been smeared and nearly worn away from the many times she had done this ritual, reading and rereading this letter time and time again. She covered her mouth as she read the letter one more time, wondering if this time she would finally reply to its sender.

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><p><em><strong>Author's Note: <strong>_So there was the first chapter. I'm trying to paint a picture here people. The things Draco went through during the summer of his sixth year. So anyways, between this story and my other story, I will have my work cut out for me! Just be patient with me and review, review, review!


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** So I got this next chapter out pretty quickly. I know it is quite shorter than the chapter before, but I am just trying to set the stage. These two have emotions that some might say one person couldn't feel all of them. Anyways, here it is.

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><p><strong>2.<strong>

_He who helped you when you were in trouble ought not afterwards be despised by you._

Sunlight speckled the floor as the sun began to peep over the distant hills. Hermione was sitting up in bed, reading a book that honestly had nothing to do with history, school, or her magical education. As the light from the sunrise met her eyes and made her squint, she had mixed feelings of guilt and relief. She felt guilty because she had been up for hours, reading this book about fairy tales and princesses and long-lost love instead of reading something worthwhile, something that would be useful down the road, something that might help in the fight against Voldemort. She felt relieved that she did not have to worry about trying to fall back asleep. Nightmares of the ordeal in the Department of Mysteries at the beginning of summer plagued her nearly every night and she found herself more tired in the morning than if she had just skipped sleep altogether. She finished reading the rest of the words on the page and shut the book, the smell of the old parchment meeting her nose and giving her goose bumps. It was one of her favorite smells. Those last few words lingered in her brain as a summery breeze picked up outside: 'Do you become a rose-tree, and I the rose upon it.' Her mind wandered to Ron. She counted each freckle, each strand of fiery red hair, tracing his face in her mind, grateful for something else to think about, to give her hope that there was still something to look forward to. As soon as her stomach began to flutter at the image in her mind, Ron's awkwardly handsome features melted into a pale grey face with red piercing eyes, hissing at her. She shook herself away from her daydream gone bad, and climbed out of bed, opening the shutters to let more light into the room to hopefully chase away her ill feelings that weighed down on her like cinder blocks on her soul.

She dressed quickly, eager to get downstairs and be around people instead of trapped in her own head with her tormenting thoughts. Plus, she thought she smelled bacon. She wandered down the stairs and noticed that Mrs. Weasley was the only one about the house, flicking her wand around the kitchen, enchanting utensils and appliances while she set the table in the middle of the room.

"Oh, good morning dear!" Mrs. Weasley chimed cheerfully as she flicked a loose piece of hair away from her face and smiled sweetly at Hermione. "Don't worry about waiting for the others to make their ways down here. They won't be long if their noses are working properly. If you're hungry, I will fix you a plate! Fred and George left about an hour ago. Went to ready to shop. They say it's a big day for sales!" She was already scooping eggs onto a plate when Hermione cleared her throat and pulled out a chair from the table to sit down. Mrs. Weasley placed the plate full of eggs, bacon, biscuits and potatoes in front of her and saw Hermione's expression. She looked utterly defeated. "The post will be here shortly. I am sure Dumbledore knows that you and Harry are here as well!" She said cheerfully as she peered out the window and flicked her wand toward the sink, making a dish brush scrub the dishes. Hermione's heart suddenly jumped. Her head had been so clouded of late that she forgot all about her anticipation for this day. The day they received their O.W.L. marks.

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><p>"Hermione," Ron said as he bumped her shoulder, "don't look so bloody down. You got ten Outstanding marks on you O.W.L.s!" Hermione shrugged as they walked through the dense crowd of Diagon Alley. Ron dodged a group of children running the opposite way, and brushed her hand. The hairs on her arms stood up, and whether or not this intimate touch was intentional, she did not know. She hoped it was.<p>

They entered Madame Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, the bell above the door tinkling brightly as the door swung open. Hermione was immediately mesmerized by a coral pink dress draped over a mannequin toward the back of the shop, but her attention was snatched away by a haughty scoff.

"Mother, these robes look absolutely atrocious," Draco Malfoy said as he stood on a pedestal in the middle of the shop, being measured by a squat old woman. "Honestly, woman, don't you have eyes? Can't you see that these robes are an atrocity? Mother, can we please—Ouch! Watch where you stick that thing!"

"If you would just hold still, young man!" Madame Malkin said as she turned her head to greet Hermione, Harry and Ron. "Oh, hello children! I will be with you in a moment!" Draco turned his head to see them properly.

"Ah," he began with his nose turned up toward the ceiling. "If it isn't the Trio of Tossers. Come to get your school robes? I believe you are in the wrong spot, unfortunately."

"Wrong spot?" Hermione said, taking a step forward, preparing herself for whatever rude remark that was about to come out of his mouth.

"Yes, Granger. I believe you will find better suiting garments at the dog groomers next door." Hermione wanted to lunge toward him, but Ron caught her arm. "While you're at it, take that fire crotch disgrace with you. I am sure they cater to no-good weasels as well."

"Malfoy, you are positively vile," Hermione said, shooting daggers in his direction. Just then, Narcissa Malfoy stepped out from behind her son and walked toward Hermione, her gloved hands smoothing down her coat in regality.

"You will not insult my son. He is above you, as are most of the people in this alley. You will do well to keep your words to yourself if you know what is good for you," she said. She then put her lips close to her ear, Hermione's hair lightly grazing her cheek. "You are nothing, Mudblood," she whispered. Hermione felt her face get hot as tears began to blur her vision. She then stepped away from her and back toward her son. "Come, Draco," she said as she pulled the fabric off of Draco and tossed it on the ground. "We will get your robes from Twilfitt and Tatting's. Now that we know what sort of filth shops here." And with that, the two blondes exited the shop with another bright tinkling of the bell.

Madame Malkin stood in the middle of the room, positively frozen from what she had just witnessed. She shook her head and hobbled toward the three. "Oh, goodness! I do apologize for those people. Some people are just nasty. I am not upset one bit that I lost their business. Here my dear," she said as she reached her hand out for Hermione. "I have just the pretty thing that you need to perk you right up." Hermione wiped her eyes and let the woman lead to toward the pink dress in the back.

"I can't believe Malfoy," Ron said, his knuckles turning white as he wrung the bottom of his shirt in his hands. "Such a prat. Pure-blood or not, he's the dirtiest scoundrel I know. I wish I could just—"

"Ron, don't even think about him. He is not worth the energy," Hermione said softly as they walked toward Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. She was grabbed by an enormous sign hanging on the outside window that almost made her chuckle.

WHY ARE YOU WORRYING ABOUT YOU-KNOW-WHO? YOU SHOULD BE WORRIED ABOUT U-NO-POO! THE CONSTIPATION SENSATION THAT'S GRIPPING THE NATION!

Ron laughed. "Maybe we could drop of few of those in that wanker's pumpkin juice at the start of term feast! Watch his face turn purple with being even fuller of shit than he usually is." Hermione rolled her eyes.

She disliked Draco so much. To the moon and back. If the world could have an enema, he and his pure-blood, prejudiced family would be the first ones flushed down the drain. But she honestly could not do it anymore. She had no energy left to spend on her feud with a narrow-minded, intolerant chauvinist when there was a war going on. Her brain was stuck and it was not wise to let it wander to some schoolyard quarrel when there were people dying. When she could die.

She felt so lonely in her own head. Like nobody could really understand the things she felt, so she dealt with them on her own. Harry obviously had his mind on his own troubles, being the Chosen One and all, having the weight of the world on his shoulders, the one who would save them all. But at least people looked to him. He was a beacon of hope to everyone, even to her. What was she? His sidekick. Just the clever muggle-born girl who stood beside him and whispered ideas in his ear. That was just it. A muggle-born. A mudblood. Not too long from now, she would be an outcast, not even allowed to attend school or even be around others of a purer blood status. She was just waiting for the day until she was nothing more than an animal, only belonging in a cage and drowned when they felt the time was right. Harry was a face of hope. She was a face of problems. The reason there was a war in the first place. Or that's how she felt at least.

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><p>She sat down beside Ron in the prefect's car and opened her book again, the book from which she felt guilt and pleasure all at the same time. She felt like if she read one more sentence about Dark Magic her eyes might split open and leave her blind for the rest of her life. So she settled on fairy tales for the time being. It was a nice escape from the dread of the world all around her. Ron glanced over her shoulder to see what she was reading, and his closeness made her stomach jump.<p>

"What's that you're reading? Hogwarts: A History for the eleventh time?" He joked. Hermione chuckled under her breath.

"Not this time. It's Grimm's Book of Fairy Tales. This one I'm reading is called Fundevogel."

"Fun boggle?" Ron said as he continued to read over her shoulder. Hermione scooted to face him.

"No, Ron," she giggled. "Fundevogel. It's about these two children who were so in love with each other," Hermione began, but then she paused, as if she were being sucked into a trance.

"And what happens to them? Do they die like in that other story you told me about. Frolo and Julie?"

Hermione shook her head. "No. Not like Romeo and Juliet. They live happily ever after," she said quietly. Happily ever after. She wished those words could be spoken about real life instead of just in silly stories that make no sense when you read them out loud. Hermione never wished she could live happily ever after. Maybe when she was a girl, but not now. Now she just wished she could live. She wished she could live past this war and have the possibility of happiness untainted by the constant threat of fear and death. Just bliss.

Her thought was cut short by a curt snort.

"Reading silly fairy tales, Granger?" A nasally voice met her ears as the scent of black cherries filled her nose. Pansy Parkinson was standing in front of her with her hands on her hips. "You're better off kissing frogs than wishing for your prince to come. Ha!" She laughed. "A prince for Granger! I never thought I would hear such a joke!" She said as she skipped out of the car and into the hallway to start her round of patrols. Ron put a hand on her back and rubbed his thumb along the stitches of her sweater.

"I don't think fairy tales are silly, Hermione. It's much nicer than what's going on in the world right now," Ron said as he continued to stroke her back. Hermione shoved the book back into her bag violently, then ripped out a different book. This one was dark brown and did not have the same swirly girl lettering as the previous one. "What are you reading now?" Ron said softly.

"Hogwarts: A History. For the eleventh time." She could practically recite the entire book word for word, but she figured that blatant facts written down on a piece of paper are better suited for her than ideas that make her mind wander. This way she would still be sitting on this seat beside Ron on her way to Hogwarts instead of in the clouds, dreaming of a far off land where magic had completely different principles and nobody knew who she was.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>So there was chapter 2. I hope it is all meeting your expectations. I don't want to rush into anything here. I am going to take my time and let everything pan out like it should. After all, Rome wasn't built in a day. Love you all:)


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:** Hi all! So I must say, out of all the chapters so far, this one was my favorite to write for some reason. Enjoy!

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><p><strong>3.<strong>

_Just as a snake sheds its skin, we must shed our past over and over again._

Two feminine shadows appeared alongside a riverbed out of a wisp of thin air. One with long, flowing blonde hair, glinting in the light of the crescent moon, the other with untamed black curls covering her face as she drew up her hood, trotting behind her sister and making hissing noises as she followed.

"Cissy, please listen to me!" Bellatrix whispered as they climbed a mossy hill as lights from houses began to emanate through the darkness.

"Bella, turn back. I have told you already—"

"We can't trust him!"

"The Dark Lord trusts him," Narcissa said as she peered around a corner into an alley. Bellatrix huffed.

"I think he is mistaken about—"

"You dare question The Dark Lord's judgment?" Narcissa whipped her head around quickly and met Bellatrix's eyes. She once saw life and joy in those eyes when they were children, but now she just saw nothing. Nothing but hate and death. Her eyes were like black holes, extinguishing any light that ever could meet them. Bellatrix snapped her mouth shut and looked at the ground, as if Voldemort were standing right beside her, pondering the words that had just been made. "I have made my decision," Narcissa continued. "He is the only one who will be close enough to Draco to aid him, and I don't care whether or not you trust him. I need my son to be safe." She turned and headed down a street, only one street lamp for a lighted path.

"He will be safe. At the Dark Lord's side once his task is complete!" Bellatrix said.

"And what about before that, before he completes this 'task' of his? What if he gets caught, or is challenged to a duel, or—" Narcissa hesitated.

"Or what if he's overcome by his cowardice?" Bellatrix finished for her. Narcissa's jaw tightened at her sister's remark. "I have known it for a while now, Cissy," she said as she began to circle her. "While Draco was blessed with the good looks from our side of the family, he has been cursed with the same spinelessness as your rotten, simple-minded husband." Narcissa opened her mouth to protest. "And don't even try and defend Lucius. I'm no fool, Narcissa. I know you can't stand the very sight of that no-good, putrid slug." Narcissa pursed lips at her sister's hot breath.

"I love Lucius, Bella."

"Oh, please. You might have loved him once, if only for the sake of his blood status. After seeing what happened to Andromeda after she married that _thing_, you needed to keep your line pure. You don't love him. Not now. Now you barely even pity him. To you, he's like a cur that lies in the middle of the road after being hit by a car, his entrails spilling out onto the pavement, still barely alive, looking at you with glassy eyes as you try and swallow down the vomit." Narcissa turned quickly and trotted down the street. She made sure her heels clicked just so to hide a small sniffle as she approached a dimly lit house at the end of the road. She could feel her sister still close behind her. "And if you ask me," she continued as she whispered closely to Narcissa's ear, "I think you've gotten soft! I was in Azkaban for more than a decade while you were in your proper little home playing house, ignoring your duties as a follower of the Dark Lord." _I was never a follower_, Narcissa thought. "You will never be like me and Rodolphus. We were ready to return to his side all along! No, you will never be like—"

"I don't ever want to be like you," she snapped coldly. "Now," she said as she straightened out her coat. "You will be leaving this instant unless you intend to help my son. Otherwise, you will keep your mouth shut or I will curse you myself," Narcissa said harshly as she tapped lightly on the large oak door. Bellatrix snarled and sneaked her hand into her coat to retrieve her wand. The door creaked open slowly to reveal a tall man with a pointed nose, appearing much thinner as he was silhouetted by the darkness.

"Good evening, Narcissa," Severus Snape said as he bowed his head in her direction. "Wands away, Bellatrix, if you intend to enter my home." Bellatrix snarled again as she took her hand out of her coat. They stepped inside, brushing past Snape as he closed the door behind them. He led them into a room that was adorned with books all along the walls, which was lit only by a fire that burned in a hearth which was carved cozily into a bookcase.

"We are sorry to impose on your evening like this, Severus," Narcissa began.

"I'm not sorry," Bellatrix interrupted. Narcissa shot her a deathly glare as she strolled around the room, fingering items here and there.

"Severus, I know I ought not to be here. I have been forbidden to speak a word of it, but—"

"Then you ought to hold your tongue!" Bellatrix snapped at her. "Especially in present company." Snape raised an eyebrow in her direction.

"Present company? Are you implying that I am not to be trusted, Bellatrix?" Snape said coolly.

"That is exactly what I am saying. You think I am a moron, Severus Snape? You expect me to believe that you are loyal to the Dark Lord while you traipse around Hogwarts playing the lapdog to that silver-bearded buffoon? I see you, Severus. I see you clear as day, and no. I do not trust you." Snape handed Narcissa a glass of wine as he twirled his own around in his hand.

"You do make a point, Bellatrix. However, to question my trustworthiness is to question the Dark Lord's judgment, and I hardly believe that he would take your suspicions as lightly as I am right now." Bellatrix took a step back, but held her gaze with his. He looked away from her and looked back on Narcissa.

"It is true that you are not to breathe a word about what the Dark Lord has said. But as it happens, I am aware of your situation and the task that the Dark Lord has impressed upon Draco. If you have come to ask for my help, it would be a wasted effort. I cannot, nor can anyone, dissuade him once he has made up his mind. The task he has asked Draco to perform must be upheld." Snape said as Narcissa looked down to the ground, possibly holding back a tear, or possibly just pondering her next move.

"There must be something, Severus. Something you can do. He is only a boy. Barely even sixteen. My only son. Please, Severus."

Snape stood there quiet for a moment. "It might be possible… for me to help Draco," he finally said. Narcissa's face became paler than her usual shade of pristine snow.

"Oh, Severus!" she cried. "You would help him? You would look after him, see that he comes to no harm?"

"I can try," he said dryly. Narcissa threw her wine glass away in desperation and kneeled at his feet, kissing his hand in gratitude. Then a hiss came from the other side of the room.

"Make the Unbreakable Vow."

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><p>The wisp of light that knotted itself around their wrists had dissipated, leaving Narcissa's arm tingling. She lingered in Snape's grasp for a moment, almost perplexed, and then he ripped away from her grip.<p>

"Alright. Is that all then?" Snape said, turning quickly away from her as he began examining something on the bookshelf. Narcissa hesitated for a moment.

"Actually, not quite, Severus. I must speak with you about another matter. Privately." She directed this to her sister, who shrugged one shoulder and did not move from where she was standing.

"Bellatrix, leave this room," Snape said coldly. Bellatrix opened her mouth the object. "Now." She scoffed and left the room slowly, eyeing him as she left, piercing him with daggers. "What is it that you could not possibly say in front of your understanding and forgiving sister, Narcissa?" He said with his back still turned to her. He heard a small sob come from her, and when he turned he saw that she had her wand out and a tear was running down her face. "Why are you—"

"I just hate those filthy mudbloods," she said, wrinkling her nose. Then she flicked her wrist, and a thin shiny film covered the door in a see-through sheet. She had cast a Silencing Charm on them. She then wiped her nose with a handkerchief as she stuffed her wand away.

"Don't use that word in my presence," he said sharply.

"I'm sorry, Severus. I just knew Bella was listening and—" she stopped as another sob escaped from her throat and more tears dripped down her porcelain cheeks. Snape walked over to her and put his arms around her, pulling her closely to him. He had never been an affectionate man, but something about Narcissa, weeping for unknown reasons before him in the middle of his study, moved him to embrace her. As he held her, he felt her head tilt up, her sticky, moist cheek rub against his, and a pair of lips grazing his own. He released her quickly, not wanting to give in to the temptation that had just brushed the sensitive skin of his mouth and reciprocate her actions.

"Don't," he said distantly, turning away from her once more.

"I'm sorry," she said meekly as she tugged at the seam of her coat, like an embarrassed little girl. "I'm just being silly. Lucius has not touched me in months and I—" Snape held up his hand to silence her.

"Please, Narcissa. Just don't." It was silent for a moment, the two of them just standing in the air that had now become so thick with shame and awkwardness.

"It was that muggle-born girl, wasn't it, Severus?" Narcissa finally said. Snape did not look to her, but his shoulders tensed at her words. "What was her name? Lily, was it? She was a very pretty thing, as I remember." Narcissa dabbed her nose again.

"You know nothing," Snape said softly.

"Oh, I know enough. I know that you were very fond of her. Probably even loved her." Snape turned around quickly, and before she could even take a step back, he had his hand around her throat. He picked her up off the ground and slammed her into the bookcase as she clawed at his grip.

"You will shut your filthy mouth, Narcissa. I will not have the Dark Lord hearing such disgusting rumors about his most loyal disciple. Merlin, help me, I will blow you to bits and there will be nothing left for your family to bury." He loosened his grip when he heard her gurgle for air. His knuckles has turned white.

"Severus, you must know I would never…" she took a gasp of air and coughed, recovering from the vice she was just in. "I would never tell. In all honestly, that is the very reason why I trust you. And why only you can help me."

"I have already made the vow to keep your son safe," Snape said indifferently. Narcissa just shook her head.

"I did not come here for the sole reason of Drraco's safety. Severus, I looked into my son's eyes last night. Do you want to know what I saw?" Snape looked down at her emotionlessly. "I fear that I saw nothing. There might have been something there, some small glimmer of emotion, but I'm afraid that whatever he still has left, it will be snuffed. Severus, I cannot stand by and let my son's humanity be torn down by this monstrosity."

"Are you calling the Dark Lord a monster?"

She hesitated, trying to gather her thoughts. "No. Not at all. No. But the world he has been forced into, that his father's mistakes have forced him into, it will undoubtedly kill him. And if it does not kill him, then he will be just like her," she said as she pointed toward the door. "Just like that _monster_ right outside that door. Severus, please. I love my son. I would much rather him die with his dignity and humanity and with _love_ in his heart than live at the Dark Lord's side as just a shell of a person, with no human emotion left in his entire body." Snape's icy façade had thawed somewhat as he looked upon her. "I look at my sister and I am terrified. I don't want to look at my son and feel the same way. Please." She began crying again as she headed toward the door to exit, when a hand touched her shoulder.

"I do not see how I can fulfill this request you have asked of me, and the task that has been given to Draco still stands," Snape said as Narcissa looked down to the floor. He rubbed the back of his hand on her cheek tenderly. "But I will do everything in my power to save his soul." Narcissa let out a relieved sigh as she embraced him one last time. "Now, wipe your face and straighten up. Do not let Bellatrix see that you had a moment of weakness." She wiped her eyes and smiled, then quickly exited the house at the end of the street at Spinner's End.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>So did you enjoy it as much as I did? Yes, I am aware it is slow going, but I am pulling out all the stops for this one. So now you know the things Narcissa is feeling and how conflicted she is. Oh, goodness, it's all just so much! If you liked it and want more, please follow, favorite, and review! Thanks guys! Love you all!


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note**: Hi everyone! Here is Chapter 4! It is a tad bit shorter than the last few, but still worth it. Please enjoy!

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><p><strong>4.<strong>

_A wise woman wishes to be no one's enemy; a wise woman refuses to be anyone's victim._

Draco stood in the middle of the Great Hall, which had transformed into a wonderland of wintery elegance the night before the Christmas holidays began. He was still in the crowd while the band on stage played one of their most popular songs, something with an upbeat tune that was a favorite among the girls in the room, all of them squealing and making noises so high-pitched that he wondered if even a dog's ears could even hear them. He winced as a small, red-haired Hufflepuff girl pushed her way through the sea of people and let out a wail right next to his head as one of the band members flipped his guitar behind his back and played a quite impressive solo. Or at least it would have been impressive if he could have heard it, if his ear had not practically started bleeding from going deaf from that daft imp of a girl that now stood beside him. He shoved his way toward the back of the crowd, intent on getting some punch (wishing for something stronger), then hoping to leave the entire scene without being spotted. He nearly made it out of the crowd when he felt a tickle as a fingernail gently grazed the nape of his neck ever so slightly. Chills shot through his body and his hairs stood up on end. His hand shot up to the spot to rub the tickle away, but the fingernail continued to brush him, and grabbed his fingers in a smooth grip. He turned around and saw a tall, slender blonde in a long silvery metallic dress that clung to her figure as it draped over her bony shoulders. Daphne Greengrass put her hand on Draco's shoulder as she gripped his hand tighter.

"Let's dance, Draco," she said softly as she moved her body closer to his. He could feel her breath on his skin, and his hair stood up once more. He made a move to pull away.

"I was just getting punch," he said flatly, wiggling his shoulder out from underneath her hand. He began to turn around when she pulled him toward her again. Daphne was usually gentle, but tonight she was being uncharacteristically aggressive.

"I asked for a dance, Draco." At this, Draco scoffed at her, hoping she'd get the hint easily.

"And of course, Daphne gets everything she asks for, naturally." She rolled her eyes at him, still not letting him go, despite his resistance.

"I would disagree with you," she began, "but like you said, naturally, I always do." She said this last part dangerously close to his ear, her lips brushing his earlobe gently. Draco felt his face get hot as he ripped away from her. He turned around to walk away, but then was blinded by something wet, cold and sticky thrown in his face. Pansy Parkinson stood in front of him with a now empty glass of punch in her hand. She hiccupped and then started pounding Draco on the chest in anger.

"You are supposed to be my date!" She said, her words just barely slurred, the smell of fire whisky faintly on her breath. Draco looked at the small bag that dangled from her arm and noticed the neck of a small flask sticking out. He managed to grab her wrists, ceasing her flailing arms from hitting him, when she turned her attention to Daphne. "He's my date, you filthy slut! There are plenty of other blokes here for you to wave your smelly twat around!" Daphne's mouth dropped in fury.

"Excuse me?" She said, as if maybe she heard wrong over the blaring music.

"I said," Pansy yelled through another hiccup, "you've got a smelly twat, you rotten—" She was cut off by a brisk slap in the face. Pansy stood there, slightly wobbly, and stunned.

"I will not be insulted by a pug-face like you, Parkinson," Daphne said as she brushed a hand down her dress. "You miserable, drunken mess. Come on, Draco." She laced her arm around Draco as Pansy let out an angry wail and stormed off. Draco wriggled free of Daphne's hold and walked quickly out of the Great Hall, wanting so badly to be away from those two looneys. He considered both of them to be rather classless.

He slunk around the corner when he saw a flash of pink running down the corridor past him. He saw the back of her first. Light brown hair in soft ringlets falling down her back, a dress that, now that he looked at it properly, was more of a shade of amaranth than pink, fell gently over her slender waste and picked up toward the bottom, giving her a shapely feel. Her skin was a light olive, supple and smooth looking, with light freckling on her shoulders. She reminded him of a painting. He heard a small gasp from her and recognized she was crying as she headed up a flight of stairs, her heels clicking and echoing on the walls. She looked beautiful from behind. He clung to a wall, begging her to turn around so he could see her. So he could match a face to this stunning figure he had secretly been watching. _Please turn around._

"Wait!" He heard someone call from the other end of the corridor, a deep, stern voice. He wanted to turn to see who it was calling after her, but his eyes were fixed. _Turn around_. Heavy footsteps trudged past him as they pursued the girl. Draco could tell from the dark red, wool outfit he was wearing that he was one of the boys from Durmstrang. Could this girl be from Beauxbatons, then? "Please, wait," he said again. Draco saw the silhouette of his face. Viktor Krum.

His stomach turned. He was never one to fawn over celebrities. Being of such high status in the wizarding world had its perks, after all. Sharing boxes at sporting events with the Minister of Magic, sitting at the same table at dinner with some of the most famous witches and wizards of the age. But Viktor Krum, even if he did lose the Quidditch World Cup for Bulgaria over the summer, was definitely one of Draco's idols, though he would rarely admit it. Krum grabbed her around the waist before she got to far up the stairs. She covered her hands over her face, shielding her tears from him. "Tell me why you are crying?" Krum said in his thick accent. He removed her hands from her face slowly, but them Krum sidestepped in front of her, obstructing Draco's view of her. He was starting to get irritated. He wanted so badly to see her from the front. The girl choked out a sob, trying to manage to make a few words, but nothing came out but a wet gurgling sound. "It's not me, is it?" The girl shook her head.

"I think I just want to go to bed, Viktor," she finally managed to say. Her voice sounded so familiar. Did Draco know her? "It has just been a stressful week." Krum nodded in understanding as he bowed, kissing her palm. It was as he did this that her face was unmasked. At first, Draco could not place her. She definitely looked familiar, but he was sure he would remember such a face as hers. Smooth skin, rosy cheeks that were somewhat blotchy from crying, the gentle curve of her jaw, the defining dent of her collar bone. Krum walked away from her and another voice came from behind him, calling out her name as she fled up the staircase, one that belonged to a certain airheaded Weasley, and that was when he realized exactly who he had been admiring.

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><p>He felt vomit rise up as Potter and Weasley barreled through the door of the Potions classroom. They were so buffoonish and uncoordinated, with complete disregard to poise and composure. That's how Draco always held himself. Perfectly straight, stoic, and always composed. He rolled his eyes as they apologized to Professor Slughorn and made their way to the group as they all stood behind a table that held numerous vials of different colored concoctions. Ron stood beside Hermione. Draco watched as she her body stiffened ever so slightly. She locked her knees and gently stroked her hair, wrapping her arms even tighter around her books she held against her chest. She leaned slightly in his direction, getting as close to him as possible without actually touching, except maybe brushing his arm with a loose thread from her sweater. Draco scoffed as an uncomfortable feeling arose in his stomach. He could not place it. Was it jealousy? No. Not a chance. Not a snowball's chance in hell.<p>

"Who would like to come up here and tell me what these potions are on this table, hmm?" Professor Slughorn sang to the group. Of course, Hermione's arm shot up. Slughorn smiled and gestured her forward. Draco imitated her eagerness with a mocking, silly look on his face, raising his hand and pretending to flip a mane of bushy hair over his shoulder.

"This one is Veritaserum," she began. "It's a truth-telling serum."

Draco lowered his voice so only his friends could hear him, but made sure he was just loud enough for Harry and Ron to hear his remarks. "That mudblood is a bloody mess, and that's the _truth_." His friends chortled as Ron clenched his fists, but did not turn around.

"This one is Amortentia. The strongest love potion in the world," she continued.

"There's no potion strong enough to make anyone love that hideous thing," Draco said. Ron's knuckles started turning white.

"It's rumored to smell differently to each person according to what attracts them."

"The only thing she can attract is flies." Draco laughed as one of his friends clapped him on the back.

"That's it!" Ron shouted. He turned around and punched Draco square in the jaw, knocking him back a few feet. Draco tore his wand from his robes and before Ron could even reach for his, Draco hit him with a flash of blue light that sent him hurdling across the room and smashing into a cabinet, vials of potions and jars of ingredients crashing to the ground and spilling all over the floor. Ron's head lolled to the side as the class moved out of the way. Harry then pointed his wand straight at Draco.

"Stop that this minute!" Professor Slughorn shouted. Hermione's face turned white as she saw Ron leaning against the smashed cupboard. She ran over to him and brushed his cheek. The feeling in Draco's stomach moved up into his throat as his temple throbbed. "Wands away! Both of you!" He said to both Harry and Draco as they hesitated, but eventually lowered their wands. "Thirty points from Slytherin! And twenty points from Gryffindor!"

"Thirty points? He hit me first! I was only acting in self -defense!" Draco shouted.

"You think I did not hear your remarks about Miss Granger, Malfoy?" Draco straightened up as Hermione turned her head slowly to look at him. Draco's face was like stone. "In fact, I think fifty points would be a better suited deduction for such ugly comments." Draco opened his mouth to protest but Slughorn cut him off once more. "And I think a few evenings worth of detentions would serve you well also." Hermione whipped her head back toward Ron, hiding the wetness that had sprung up into her eyes. She begged herself not to let a tear fall. Not to give Malfoy the satisfaction. She helped Ron to his feet, and without even excusing herself, she half-carried him out the door toward the hospital wing, leaving her classmates and that dreadful Draco Malfoy behind her.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>So there you have it. Sorry it took a while. Let me tell you, it was a crazy week at work. Working in a Cardiac ICU, I see my fair share of awful things, and this week in particular was very trying. I am glad I found some time to write and just escape from the heartbreak for a while. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and please remember to follow, favorite and review!


	5. Chapter 5

**_Author's_**_ Note:_ Yay! Chapter 5!**  
><strong>

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><p><strong>5.<strong>

"Slimy git," Ron said as he began bearing more of his own weight. Hermione was grateful for this, since she felt like her shoulder was about to give out from partially carrying him up the staircases from the dungeons. However, she liked the silence as Ron was still fighting toward full-consciousness, focusing more on keeping his head level than making words. Hermione rolled her eyes. "Foul, slimy git," he said again.

"You've said that once, Ron." Hermione said, looking straight ahead as they continued down the corridor.

"I did? Hmm. My head hurts." He reached his hand to the back of his head slowly and felt wetness. His hand was sticky with a coat of blood. Hermione looked at his hand, and then examined the back of his head. His fiery red hair was caked with a layer of matted blood. She ran her fingers through it, trying to find the source.

"You're bleeding, Ron," she said, still combing through his hair. She found the source of the bleeding, and noticed it was barely even a cut, but just bled like a stuck pig. "It doesn't look bad. Does it hurt?" Ron did not answer her. She looked at his face and noticed he had gone completely white. His eyes rolled into the back of his head and he began to tilt forward. Hermione caught him quickly. Her arms burned as she attempted to lower him slowly to the floor. She noticed that over the year he had filled out, tall, broad shoulders, barrel-chested and strong arms, but she never imagined how ridiculously heavy he would be as dead weight. She managed to safely get his unconscious body to the floor, and then she took out her wand, pointed it at him, and muttered 'Levicorpus.'

She was relieved, in a sense, for the silence once more. She knew had he remained conscious, that he would have continued to talk about Malfoy, that slimy git. It was true that she loathed him, despised him, but it got to the point where it drained her, the constant hatred between them made her feel less alive than usual. She preferred to act like he did not exist. She had made an art form out of ignoring his presence, to where the sound of his voice had just become like a dull humming noise. As she held her wand in the air, levitating Ron closer toward the hospital wing, she felt something fall on her cheek. A tear? She wiped it away quickly. There was no room for silly tears during a war.

They made it to the hospital wing and Hermione lowered him onto one of the empty beds. It was quiet there. Since it was the first school day, not many people had much time to get sick or hurt themselves only having been at Hogwarts for a day and a half. Only two beds were occupied, one by a boy who looked like a first year who had his head in a bucket, making awful retching sounds. Hermione bet herself that he had eaten some of the grey mush at the start of term feast, a dish that everyone learned to steer clear of at one point during their schooling. On the second bed, sitting at the edge and fiddling with a bandage on his left wrist, was someone Hermione recognized. Sandy blonde curls that looped around his ears, chiseled jaw bone, emerald eyes, and an expression of arrogance that he never seemed to be able to wash his face of. He lifted his head to see her.

"Hello, Hermione," he said with a sly smile. Hermione made a point not to look at him straight on.

"Good morning, Cormac," she said. Her eyes drifted to the dressing on his arm. She hesitated for a moment, then pointed to it. "What happened?" Cormac McLaggen shrugged his shoulders.

"Nothing really. My father and I were out hunting with the Minister over the holidays. Did you know there are Graphorns in the Highlands of Scotland? Well, we came across one, and it charged at my father," he began, using his hands in very animated fashion to tell his story. "Its horn clipped my father's pack, sending him into the air. Naturally, I tore out my wand and started firing spells at the beast." Hermione raised her eyebrows.

"A graphorn? Wow, what spell did you use to take it down?" Hermione said, pretending to be interested. Cormac gave a chuckle.

"I used Confringo," he said, raising his eyebrows haughtily.

"Hmm," Hermione began, looking puzzled. "That's interesting, considering Graphorn skin is tough and propels most rudimentary spells such as Confringo." She gave him a very perplexed look. Cormac stuttered for a moment.

"Yes, of course. The Confringo curse bounced off of its skin, naturally, and ricocheted onto the wall of rock next to us. The blast caused the rock face to crumble, and the Graphorn was crushed." He smiled again, thinking he had recovered quite nicely. Hermione nodded her head.

"I hope your father is alright," she said, sounding concerned. Cormac nodded.

"Oh, yeah. Just a few lumps and bruises, but he was just fine. I got the worst of it," he said, holding up his arm. "One of the rocks from the blast did this to me." Just then, Madame Pomfrey trotted out from the back of the room, stirring something in a small bowl and heading toward the vomiting first year. She looked to Hermione as she spoon fed it to the boy in between retches.

"May I help you, Miss Granger?" She said sweetly.

"Ron hit his head. He's alright, I think. Just passed out at the sight of blood," she said. Madame Pomfrey nodded. Cormac scoffed under his breath, implying that fainting at the sight of blood was much less than manly. Hermione's eyes shot to him.

"Mister McLaggen," Madame Pomfrey said as she walked over toward Ron. "I think you are fine to leave. Leave that dressing on for the next day or so, and then you will be perfectly healed." Cormac stood up slowly, acting as if he was stiff and sore from his battle with a vicious beast. "And remember, no more running into walls, you silly thing!"

Hermione looked at him and laughed. Cormac's face turned a bright shade of red as his story was completely blown.

"Thank you, Madame Pomfrey," Hermione said, and she headed out of the hospital wing and to her next class. Double Defense Against the Dark Arts with the Slytherins.

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><p>Hermione was early. The door creaked open and the room was completely empty. She assumed that Potions had run a bit late, since there was nobody in sight yet. She picked a seat next to the wall close to the front of the class and saved the seat next to her for Harry. She opened her textbook and read until more students began filing in and filling the seats around the room. Once everyone was seated, Snape strolled in and whipped his robe around as he faced the class, a dramatic entrance he always made at the start of a class.<p>

Today's lesson was going to be nonverbal spell casting. Hermione elbowed Harry, signaling that she wanted him to be her partner. Usually, Harry and Ron partnered together when they practiced spells and she partnered with Parvati or another girl, but seeing as Ron was not here, she chose Harry.

"We will be partnering up today to practice your nonverbal spells," Snape said. He scanned the room as it was evident that everyone had already had an idea who they would partner with, whispering and locking arms with each other. He smiled, knowing he was going to cause disappointment. "But you will not be picking your partner." The entire class groaned in contempt. "I will be pairing you up because all the giddiness is making me nauseated." He turned his nose up as he brought his fingers to his chin. "Potter," he said, scanning the room for an interesting pairing. "You'll be with Crabbe." Both of them moaned and protested, but Snape continued with his pairings, as if he did not even hear. Hermione wondered who she might get paired with. She would prefer not to be with any Slytherin, but she supposed Daphne Greengrass would be the most tolerable. "Patil and Brown." Parvati and Lavender squealed with joy. "Zabini and Goyle." Draco looked around him. All of his first choices had been paired already. All that was left was Pansy, and though they were good friends, he did not feel like dealing with her mindless chatter and gossip this morning. "Malfoy," Snape began. He hesitated for a moment as he scanned the room once again. Hermione wanted him to look right past her and pick anybody else but her, but his gaze rested on her and he gave a sick smile. "and Granger." Hermione buried her head in her arms.

"Not a chance!" Draco said loudly. "You're out of your damn mind if you think I'm going to be partners with her!" Snape crossed his arms and looked upon him.

"You will mind your tongue in my classroom, Draco. Unless you wish to spend another week in detention," Snape said. Draco rolled his eyes. "My decision stands. No switching."

"This is bloody ridiculous," Draco said under his breath. Hermione looked at him from the corner of her eye. He slumped over in his chair and drummed his fingers on the desk. His neck and face looked red, like he was about to boil over. Once Snape was finished partnering the class up, he instructed which spells to practice first, then allowed the class to break off and begin. Hermione stood up, straightened out her skirt, and strolled tall toward Malfoy. He was talking with Blaise Zabini and Goyle, utterly ignorning her presence. Hermione cleared her throat. He did not pay any attention.

"I would like to get started, if you don't mind," she said sternly, her arms crossed closely across her chest, her wand gripped tightly in her hand.

"Granger, get the hell away from me. We are not partners," he said, waving his hand at her. Blaise and Goyle laughed.

"Malfoy, I don't like this any more than you do, but I will not get a zero on today's assignment just because—" Malfoy cut her off with a high-pitched annoying voice.

"Malfoy, I will NOT get a zero, blah blah blah," he said, mocking her in a nasally, irritating tone. His friends laughed even harder. "Honestly Granger, I would never stoop so low as to practice defensive spells with the likes of you." Hermione felt her face become hot and he fingers tingled with building up energy.

"Fine," she said, forcefully. "You don't have to practice with me. But I am definitely going to practice with you." Malfoy turned toward her to say something else insulting, but could not say a word before a stream of green light shot out of her wand and hit him square in the chest, sending him soaring backward and knocking down both of his friends in his trajectory. He stood up and ripped his wand from his robes. Hermione kept her aim. Draco began to incant a spell when Snape shouted from the front of the classroom.

"Nonverbal, Mister Malfoy!" Hermione raised her eyebrow mockingly. Draco swore under his breath, and made an attempt to cast a spell without an incantation. Hermione laughed as she saw a vein in his temple pulsing. She finally had the upper hand over him.

"No, no, no, Mister Malfoy," she said, sweetly. "Do it like this!" She flicked her wrist slightly and another burst of light shot from her wand and hit him, this time in the shoulder, bouncing off his cheek and leaving a small burn on his face. Blaise and Goyle backed up, no longer seeing this as amusing. Draco was practically on fire with fury now. He made a grunting noise, still attempting a verbal spell, but after a few seconds of exasperation, the spell came pouring over his lips.

"Deprimo!" He shouted. Hermione attempted to deflect it, but it broke right through her shieild charm. Hermione's face turned white. She looked panicked and then began to scream as downward pressure was being exerted on her body. She felt her legs beginning to warp. The pain was growing worse and worse, then became unbearable when she heard two distinct snaps. The pressure had now caused her legs to break underneath her. She cried out in pain as all the blood felt like it completely left her body and went straight to her legs. Everybody cleared away from her as Snape rushed over.

"Potter," he called over. "Take her to the hospital wing. She will need her bones mended." Harry shoved his wand in his pocket and picked her up off the floor, draping her arms over his shoulder and scooping her up. Snape looked at Draco. "Another week of detention." Draco did not argue. Instead, he gathered his books in his shoulder bag and stormed out of the room, the sounding of cracking echoing around in his ears.

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><p><em><strong>Author's<strong>_ **Note:** So there it was. I am trying to go slowly. I want this to be a nice, long, believable thing. And we all know how stubborn both Hermione and Draco can be. So why rush it? It was a decent week. Nobody died at work. So that's good. Anyway, keep an eye out for the next chapter and remember to follow, favorite and review!


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note:** Pretty excited about this one, folks! Enjoy!

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><p><strong>6.<strong>

Benny Gelson was a blonde boy with fair skin who always wore a knit vest over a button-up collared shirt and khaki pants. No matter what the day, it was always the same. Hermione was not sure if she loathed him or admired him. It was hard to tell when you were eleven years old and boys started to look cute instead of disgusting, and the rude things they said could actually mean that they like you. She sat against the fence in the midday sunshine that had just peeked out from behind the pearly clouds. Hermione loved books, but this one in particular, Grimm's Fairytales, was by far her favorite one. She dreamed of one day being a princess, not because princesses were beautiful and married the handsome prince, but because they were important, and had the ability to lead and change the world. She was quite ahead of her time, her teachers would tell you. Most of the girls her age wanted to be fashion designers or singers or actresses when they grew up, but Hermione wanted to be a diplomat.

She was about to turn the page when a shadow was cast by someone standing over her. Benny Gelson stood in front of her, two of his friends on either side of him. He had his arms crossed over his green argyle vest. Hermione looked up at him, squinting as the sunlight draped him in a silhouette.

"What's that you're reading, Hermione?" Benny said, snatching the book from her hands aggressively. Hermione squealed in protest.

"Stop it, Benny! That's my favorite book!" Benny held the book up in the air from the page she had just finished reading. She could hear a faint rip. "You'll ruin it!" She swiped at the book, trying to regain it in her grasp, but Benny held it higher in the air above her head. She jumped, trying to grab it from him. The page ripped even more, and eventually the book fell to the ground while Benny still held the torn page in his fist, laughing. Hermione scrambled to the ground to recover her book, and snatched the torn page from him, tears in her eyes. "I told you that you would ruin it," she mumbled as she held the book close to her chest. Benny continued to laugh.

"Well, maybe that will teach you a lesson! Don't read silly books!" Hermione's vision became blurred with tears as she stared at him. She felt her entire body tingle and her face become red hot. She started to shake as she watched him laugh at her. Her ears started buzzing, but she thought she heard him say the word 'freak.' The next thing she knew, Benny was on the ground, screaming and writhing, holding his hands to his head, digging his fingers into his scalp. Hermione wiped the blurry tears from her eyes and saw something very strange happen in front of her. Benny Gelson's blonde hair was taking form on the top of his head, weaving upon itself and hardening. Hermione was petrified once she saw that his hair was not hair anymore. It had transformed into antlers. The teachers ran over to him and when they saw what had happened, they both shrieked. When they finally managed to ask what happened, Benny's two friends didn't say a word, but pointed at Hermione, absolutely terrified.

"Hermione Jean Granger," her mother said, "I don't know what we are going to do with you. This is the third time this has happened! How are we going to send you to school now? Nobody will ever take you now that you've been expelled from school twice. I just don't even know." Hermione started to cry as she nibbled on her sandwich.

"I didn't do anything though," she said meekly. Her mother rubbed her temple.

"Hermione," her mother said, looking her straight in the eye, "I don't understand it. But what else could it have been? Both those boys said you did that to Benny."

"It was like magic." Her mother let out a long sigh.

"Enough with the magic already! You need to start taking responsibility for the things that you do, Hermione!" Hermione lowered her head and watched as tears spilled onto her plate. "I talked with your father this morning. We are going to take you to see a therapist on Tuesday. Try to figure things out." Hermione looked up with tear-stained eyes.

"You—you think I'm crazy?" She said softly, not wanting to believe what she had just heard.

"I'm not sure what I think anymore. This is just getting to be too much for me anymore." Her mother picked the mail up off the countertop and began to rifle through it, trying to give her mind something else to focus on besides her daughter in front of her, who was her treasure, but was obviously very troubled. There was a shoe catalog, a utility bill, credit card statements, a periodical, and then something very curious. A square letter with a red seal of a crest she did not recognize. The letter was addressed with swirly emerald calligraphy and she had to read it three times to understand it was addressed to her daughter. "Hmm," she said, interested. "This is for you. Must be an invitation to one of your friends' birthday parties or something," she said, handing the letter to Hermione.

"But I don't have any friends." She slid her fingernail along the edges of the letter, opening it carefully, and upon reading the first few sentences, she merely looked up at her mother and said, "I knew it." Her mother snatched the letter from her and scanned it, once, twice, three times with her mouth wide open. Hermione knew her mother would never believe it, but as soon as she thought this, there was a faint knock at the door. Hermione jumped from her chair and ran for the door. She had a feeling whoever knocked had something to do with the letter she had just received. She opened the door and a tall man with a long, silver beard stood on the front porch step, looking down at her from behind half-moon spectacles. He looked so out of place on her little street.

"Hello, Miss Granger," he said sweetly. He looked past her and saw her mother standing in the foyer, the letter still clutched in her hand. "And hello, Mrs. Granger. My name is Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. May I come in?" Hermione beamed up at him, opening the door wider as he stepped past her and into her house.

After buying all of the necessary school supplies, Hermione tore through her school books, being fascinated and in awe of the studies she would pursue in just less than a month. She devoured _Standard Book of Spells,_ _A Beginners Guide to Transfiguration_, and _Hogwarts: A History_. It was not until she opened the next book in her pile of texts, _A History of Magic_, that her all-too-familiar feeling of being an outsider once more loomed over her and came to rest in her gut. She lowered her head as she read the cruel sentences: '_Known as Death Eaters, the Dark Lord's followers targeted muggles and muggle-born witches and wizards, aiming to cleanse the world of a tainted race and build a society of pure-bloods where magic was unspoiled by any non-magical blood. There are many today, mostly aristocratic pure-blood families, who still hold these values, and although the Dark Lord was vanquished, still claim to be his followers and do his bidding._' For the first time since she received her letter, Hermione almost wished she had just remained a freak in her just her 'muggle' world instead of being one in her new magical world as well.

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><p>Hermione buried her face into Harry's neck, trying to stifle the cries that arose from her throat. Harry was practically running down the staircases from the third floor to make it to the hospital wing quickly. He could feel the shattered bones in her legs shifting with every step he took as he held her in his arms, which only made him go even faster. He nearly tripped on the very last step.<p>

"Don't you dare drop me, Harry Potter, or I will hex you into next week," Hermione managed to say between painful gasps. Harry did not say anything. His face was just as white as hers. "The pain is starting to decrease."

"That's good, right?" Hermione shook her head.

"I'm going into shock. How much farther?" She tucked her face back into his neck, wiping the sweat from her forehead on his skin.

"We're there, we're there," he said. Madame Pomfrey came running when she saw Harry carrying her into the hospital wing.

"Oh, dear!" She shrieked. "Right over here, Potter. Beside Weasley," she said as she ushered him over to an empty bed. At this point, Ron was awake and ready to be dismissed from the hospital wing.

"She's—" Harry stumbled over his words, "she's going into shock, I think."

"I do not doubt that with breaks this bad," Madame Pomfrey said as she tore through a cabinet full of bottles and vials.

"Bloody hell!" Ron shouted. "What happened?" He sat on the side of the bed to get closer to Hermione, who was now on the edge of unconsciousness.

"Malfoy hexed her. I hadn't heard of the spell he used."

"Deprimo?" Madame Pomfrey questioned over her shoulder.

"Yeah, I think that was the one," Harry said. She nodded and pulled a bottle and a silver cup from the back of the cabinet.

"Luckily, it's an easy fix. Here, hold her head up," she said as she held a small cup with clear liquid to her lips. "This is dreamless sleep potion. Though the remedy for these breaks is quick, it's also pretty painful. Thank you, boys." This last thing she said was her polite way of telling them to get out, because Hermione just needed to rest now. Reluctantly, both Ron and Harry squeezed Hermione's hand and headed out of the hospital wing.

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><p>Snape grabbed Draco right before he muttered to password to reveal the secret passage that led to the common room. Draco hissed as Snape jerked him to face him.<p>

"You ought to be more careful," Snape said sharply.

"Careful? That mudblood got exactly what was coming to her. I'm sure if the Dark Lord had seen it, he would pat me on the back or give me a medal!" Draco said, his face inches from Snape's.

"Don't use that word."

"Or what? You will give me another week of detention? Big deal! A few nights of detention will mean nothing when I'm part of the ranks. What does he think of you, hmm? Waltzing around this castle, eating bon-bons and kissing Dumbledore's ass all day long? You're a bloody disgrace." Draco considered spitting in his face, but decided against it, knowing full well that Snape would not hesitate to punch him right in the jaw. He saw Snape's face turn pink with rage. Suddenly, Draco felt something snake around his throat and hoist him into the air. Snape had his wand gripped so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. Draco grabbed at his neck, trying to rip the invisible vice away from his throat as he was pinned against the cold stone wall.

"You listen to me, Malfoy," Snape began through clenched teeth. "I am trying to help you. Imagine that you were to be expelled from Hogwarts for that little stunt you pulled this morning in my class. Dumbledore could very well choose to view that as an attack on Granger for the sole purpose of her blood-status and he would certainly not hesitate to kick your arrogant, surly ass right out of here for it. Then what would you do? Your entire plan would be ruined, and the Dark Lord would not bat an eye to kill you and your entire family. After all, if you are no use to him, and your father has surely already disgraced himself passed redemption, then what good are you alive?" Draco's face was turning a light shade of purple when Snape released him and he fell to the floor. "I will have you know, as well, Draco, that Dumbledore has confided in me that he suspects something. He knows that the Dark Lord is making plans to have him killed. And if I were you, I would try to bring no more attention to myself than necessary if you plan on being successful. So, if you value your life, or your mother's life—" Draco coughed roughly, then spat out thick, pink-tinged spit as he continued to rub his neck.

"What would you propose I do then, Professor?" He said, stumbling to his feet and brushing off his pants. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to regain his composure.

"Well," Snape began, "you can start by apologizing to Miss Granger."

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> So? What did you think? Let me know, please! I really want to know your thoughts and opinions on this story! Keep an eye out for the next chapter and please follow, favorite and review:)


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: **Oh, goodie! The next chapter! Enjoy, my lovelies.

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><p><strong>7.<strong>

A scowl stained itself on Draco's face as he dipped his spoon into the thick, yellow squash soup. Since Snape approached him with his firm request to apologize to Hermione Granger, Draco lost his appetite completely. He was not sure if this was due to disgust, or guilt. He decided after a while that it was a mixture of both, which was the best he could do. Pansy Parkinson laced her arm through his as he continued to paw at his lunch.

"Why the sour face, Draco?" She said sweetly. This voice she often used with him, the innocent baby voice that somehow reminded him of plump strawberries, raised the hairs on his arms. He found it interesting how she could make herself sound so sweet, like honey, when he knew that behind that voice, she was a serpent, hiding behind her pure, girlish façade, waiting to bare her teeth and strike at any moment. Though she was a rather shallow character, he always found her roughly amusing. He stared down at his uneaten food, ignoring her question. Pansy just huffed at his silence, and then she gave a small giggle. "I saw what happened today in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Granger's face was priceless! I mean, I'm sure it was rather painful. I could actually hear her bones crack from the other side of the room, but that mudblood deserved it." She continued to giggle softly. Draco shoved his bowl away, sloshing the soup over the sides and onto the wooden table. Pansy jumped back as she got splashed with the yellow liquid. Draco stood up quickly and headed out of the Great Hall. He now knew that what he was feeling was guilt. After hearing Pansy, the feeling solidified in his gut like cement, and it then became unmistakable. "What the hell, Draco?" Pansy called after him, but he ignored her like he usually did and he headed quickly up the stairs and down the first floor corridor.

Draco stood in the entrance to the hospital wing for a few moments, debating whether or not he really wanted to carry through with what Snape told him to do. He glanced around, noticing that there was nobody in sight, except for Madame Pomfrey who was just visible in her office, pouring over some documents on her desk, not looking up for a second, and the one occupied bed in the middle of the pristine room. Draco swallowed hard as he strolled over slowly, wiping his palms on his trousers as they became increasingly moist. His eyes traced Hermione as she lay in the bed. Her legs were wrapped up tightly in woven bandages and suspended a foot and a half above the level of her hips in a contraption that he found highly complex. As he approached her, she appeared to be sleeping. He thought about turning around and leaving, since she was not awake to hear his apology anyway, but he continued toward her. He figured it was better to apologize while she was unable to yell and scream at him, which could possibly lead Madame Pomfrey to emerge from her office and witness this very odd visitation between a broken Gryffindor and an unforgiving Slytherin.

He sat in a chair that was already placed at the head of her bed. He noticed it was somewhat warm. He guessed that Harry and Ron had just left. He was thankful now for the slow pace he took coming here. He sat down and stared at her. He looked at her face and noticed that she was not just sleeping. Her lips curled and her eyes squinted shut in a grimace of pain, but other than that, the rest of her muscles looked rigid and frozen. He saw on the bedside table that there was an empty glass with purple dregs at the bottom. Paralysis Potion. She winced again, distorting her face in pain that she could barely express. Draco swallowed again, his mouth dry as a desert now. He tried to clear the aridness from his throat.

"Granger," he said quietly. He paused for a moment as he saw one of her eyebrows twitch upward. He stared at her intently, wondering if it was intentional or reflexive. He felt like running, but his body was like lead in the chair. He noticed that even as she winced in her paralyzed state, that she still looked so much like that girl he saw when he was fourteen years old who was painted in that lovely shade of pink with tears staining her soft, rosy cheeks. He traced her face with his eyes and made his way to her hair. It was just as bushy as usual, but he had never seen it this close before. From a distance, it looked like a tangled mess, like the nest of a rat, but in reality, her hair was made up of thousands of ringlets that fell over each other in cascades. Organized chaos on the top of her head. Without realizing it, he slipped a pinky through one of her curls, twisting it around his finger. He ripped his hand back and the coil of hair bounced back onto her pillow. Why was he just unconsciously fingering her hair? He shook his head and began speaking again.

"Granger. I just wanted to say," he said, then paused as he noticed her eyelids fluttering. It seemed she was struggling to open her eyes at his voice. He froze. He thought that the Paralysis Potion would have surely knocked her out to where his apology would remain anonymous. The emeralds hidden behind her lids just barely flashed beneath her long, brown eyelashes. They shifted as far left as they could go to look at Draco, though she could barely open her eyes more than a centimeter. Her brow furrowed as she looked at him, and a faint squeak escaped her throat. Though Draco could barely see the color in her eyes, he noticed emotion in them. Normally, he saw defiance and hatred coming from this particular set, but this time it was different. Hermione lay in a bed, completely paralyzed, unable to move a muscle, defend herself, or even scream. This new look in her eyes, one Draco had never seen before the entire six years he had known her, was fear.

The heavy feeling in his stomach weighed down even more, and grew to the point where it no longer only sat in his gut, but now rested in his throat, his head, and even in his mouth. He looked into her eyes, unable to escape this terrified look she was giving him. What was she expecting that he would do to her as she lay helpless in her hospital bed? He was the son of a Death Eater, the nephew of Bellatrix Lestrange, the most disgusting, inhuman person in the whole world, and a very likely follower of the Dark Lord himself. And what was she? A muggle-born, the scum of the earth. He understood now this fear of him. He could kill her, easy as that. Given any other circumstances, she would hex him to high heavens before she would let him get this close to her, but without a wand or the functionality of her body, she was like an animal in a trap. She expected him to put the pillow over her face and rid the world of just another nuisance. Draco continued to look at her in silence and he noticed something wet and shiny appear near the corner of her plump lashes as she allowed her eyes to close once more, the muscles in her face relaxing in submission. The tear fell down her cheek and ran down her neck. Draco felt sick as the possibility rose to the front of his mind. Could he really kill her? As he looked upon her, he realized it. Whether she was lying helpless and paralyzed or whether she fought tooth and nail, he couldn't.

"I just wanted to say," he continued in a voice that almost sounded defeated, "that I am sorry." He wanted to say something else to her, something that would appease her terror of him in this moment, but he was stirred by voices coming from the corridor. He noticed a particular hissing voice as that of Severus Snape, and an angry booming coming from Dumbledore.

"Severus," he said firmly, "you have made it clear that the boy's intentions were not malicious, but how do you expect me to overlook this as just a quarrel between two students? Mister Malfoy attacked Miss Granger and those who witnessed it say that it did not look like some innocent duel!"

"Headmaster, please just listen to reason!" Snape said.

"Reason? If I was reasonable, he would already be on the train back home. Now, if Madame Pomfrey will allow it, I would like to talk to Hermione myself and listen to her side of the story." Snape scoffed in disapproval. "Miss Granger is a very honest and fair person. She will tell it how it happened, and if that is not being reasonable, then I don't know what is." The two adults emerged in the entrance of the hospital wing and both sets of eyes rested on him in surprise as he rose from his chair beside Hermione's bed. Draco ran a hand through his hair and painted his face with his usual scowl that he wore. He straightened his shirt as he walked past them, thrusting his shoulders back, trying to hide the fact that, for some reason, he felt shaken. He stood just beyond the door as he listened to the scene unfolding in the hospital wing.

Madame Pomfrey looked up from her work at the sound of Dumbledore's voice. "Ah, good afternoon, Headmaster!" She chirped as she stepped out of her office. "What can I do for you?"

"Yes, Madame Pomfrey," Dumbledore said as he stood beside the bed where Draco was just sitting. "I was hoping we could give Miss Granger some Wiggenweld Potion, to wake her so I may speak with her." Madame Pomfrey nodded and clambered through the cabinet.

"I will just need to give her a light sedative before I release her from the paralysis. She is still in a great deal of pain and I don't want her thrashing about before her bones heal all the way." She began mixing a light blue liquid in a glass with a spoonful of silvery powder.

"Yes, I understand. Take your time," Dumbledore said calmly.

"I hope to have her out of here in a week or two," she said as she stirred the concoction slowly.

"A week or two?" Dumbledore questioned.

"Oh, yes. The bones in her legs weren't just broken. They were shattered. Like powder. I am pretty sure they are unmendable. I was forced to just have them regrow. It was a rather nasty injury. One of the worst I have seen." Dumbledore pursed his lips as she gave Hermione the new potion that would cause her to awaken. Draco's heart pounded. Surely she would say something that would get him kicked out, that would suggest that Draco put her in the hospital wing because he hated her for her blood-status. And why shouldn't she? He knew the only reason he was so ugly to her over the years was because she was muggle-born. He made no secret of that. While he stood there, listening to the small sounds Hermione made as she slipped out of semi-conciousness and into wakefulness, Draco felt himself slump to the floor. The words that would come out of her mouth would inevitably kill him. He would be expelled and unable to fulfill the duty that the Dark Lord had bestowed upon him. He shut his eyes, succumbing to his fate when he heard a soft, scratchy voice cut sweetly through the air. It reminded him of that voice Pansy used on him so often, but it did not have the snake-like, malevolent undertones as hers did. It was pure.

"He didn't mean it. We were just practicing," she said, her parched throat making her words sound dry. Draco could almost hear the smile curving her lips. "He's rather good at nonverbal spells." She winced again and her face went pale. Madame Pomfrey raised another cup to her lips, which made her go limp again, and her breathing slowed as she slipped back into sleep. Dumbledore ran his fingers through his beard as Snape's expression turned to one of incredulity. Hermione had the chance to ruin Draco, to condemn him to a fate worse than death, but instead, she lied, something completely out of character for her. Draco stood up slowly, his head swimming and his fingers tingling.

Hermione just saved his life.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>I think that might have been the beginning of something. Maybe? Or will Draco just take advantage of this second chance to continue to be a scoundrel? Let me know what you think in a review! Hehehe:) Okay so keep an eye out for the next chapter, and remember to follow, favorite and review!


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: **Okay you guys. I got this one out relatively fast, though some of you thought it took forever. I love writing this story. and whenever I get the chance to, I try to update it. Please keep in mind that I am a full-time ICU nurse, and a full-time student. I do not always have time every week to update. Please just bear with me and don't be upset when I don't get it up as fast as you'd like. Actually, I know I should take it all as a compliment that you love this story so much that you just can't wait, so I will keep that in mind as well. Well, here is the next chapter, up quickly by popular demand. Enjoy!

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><p><strong>8.<strong>

Hermione focused on the colorful patches that emerged and danced across her eyelids as she squeezed her eyes shut from her constant grimace. The pain was unbearable, and she was trapped in her paralyzed body, not even able to fully open her eyes to view her surroundings. She did not want to move her legs, but some movement in her arms and neck would have been nice. She could at least try to occupy her mind with a good book instead of trying to make pictures out of the blotches behind her eyes.

Ron and Harry had just left her side. She tried to hang onto every word that came out of their mouths, to hopefully feel like she was sitting along with them instead of paralyzed in a bed, but the potion that Madame Pomfrey had given her tended to make her senses hazy, and she felt like she was drifting in and out of a dream. She knew, though, that Harry and Ron were not a dream, because her dreams stopped being so sweet to include the love from her friends, and became more the terror of the world outside of Hogwarts, and the terror that attempted to exterminate her 'kind.' Harry and Ron sat beside the bed, so close that their knees were pressed up against the mattress and she could feel the warmth coming from their bodies. Ron had her hand closed tightly in his, squeezing her fingers together to where it almost hurt. She was grateful for this new uncomfortable sensation, as it pulled some of her body's attention away from her legs and into her hand, which felt the equivalent to a deep massage when compared to her broken legs. _Actually, they aren't broken_, Hermione thought. They were _shattered_, as Madame Pomfrey so eloquently put it.

As soon as Ron and Harry left, she felt the pain doubled in intensity. She did not realize just how their presence had helped ease her. She almost felt like she could sleep when they were in her company. She felt like she could vomit, but the paralysis potion had completely stopped the function of her bowels. Nothing about her was moving. Not her limbs, not her stomach, barely her mind. The pain seemed to come in waves. A wave was starting to crest when she heard footsteps entering the hospital wing. She tried to prick her ears to identify the footsteps. They were not heavy like Ron's or quick like Harry's. They weren't short and light like Madame Pomfrey's. She knew it was not Dumbledore. He seemed to glide rather than walk across the floor. She could not place these steps, although they sounded eerily familiar. She knew she had spent the last five years hearing these footsteps. The pain peaked, causing her body to quake. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly again, this time seeing green swirls swimming across her lids and entangling with dancing dark yellow spots.

The footsteps stopped at the side of her bed and she heard the scraping of a chair moving across the floor, then of a body sitting down in it. She started to breathe in slowly, trying to grasp as much information through her nose as possible, as her eyelids were still too heavy to open. She had to separate multiple smells; the aseptic smell of the hospital wing, the sour grape smell of the remains of the paralysis potion beside her bed, the wood of the chairs beside the bed. Now she had isolated the smell of this new visitor. It was very subtle, suggesting a person that would rather not be overbearing or throwing themselves out there, but that is rather solitary, and enjoys the comforts of close and minimal company. This scent smelled fresh, like seawater and grass, with a hint of… what was it? Musky cedarwood. She deduced that this person was very classic, pristine, and possibly a deep thinker. But something about the scent tickled her nose. It almost felt like a secret that her nose stumbled upon. This part of the smell was not from cologne or another product, it was this person's natural scent. It reminded her of winter: cold but oddly comfortable. She felt like smiling when the person's voice cut through the air in a whisper.

"Granger," it said. Her eyebrow twitched up. Did she slip back into a dream? Her dream of nightmares and terror? No. It was not blurry and hazy like it seemed when Harry and Ron were around and the scene felt dreamlike. This was real. Draco Malfoy was sitting next to her hospital bed. She tried to remain motionless. Though she was fully paralyzed, she now felt her muscles buzzing, like there were bees burrowing under her flesh and making holes in her bones. She begged for the uncomfortable sensation to stop so she could appear stoic as Malfoy looked down on her. Then she felt a ringlet of her hair lifted off the pillow and twirled around his finger. He was toying with her, like a fox paws at its injured meal of a mouse before it finally crunches it with its sharp teeth, ending its miserable existence. She felt her face grow hot as the ringlet bounced back and rested against her face. It was still warm from him fondling it. Her heart pounded against her chest wall as Malfoy took in a sharp breath to speak again. "Granger. I just wanted to say…"

_That you are grateful to be seeing me like this? Hopeless. Unable to defend myself against you. I bet you are admiring your work right now. My legs are dangling above me, my bones are powder. I'm strung up like a bloody slab of meat just waiting to be cooked up and fed to hungry, carnivorous mouths. I bet you love this. Filthy Mudblood Herminoe Granger finally got what she deserved and you came to finish me off. Fucking coward! The only way you could think of ever killing me I would have to paralyzed on a hospital bed and unable to hex you to hell and back. You are a bloody fucking coward, Draco Malfoy. Go ahead and reach for that pillow and just put it over my face. I can't do this anymore. I would rather be dead than live to see anymore death for something as bloody stupid as blood-status. Do it. Do it, you bloody fucking coward._

She was looking at him now. Barely, as her eyelids felt like five-hundred pound weights and she was not able to lift them far, but she could see him. His slick blonde hair lay perfectly in place, the perfect creases in his pants, the green tie that was draped around his collar and knotted right below his Adam's apple that bobbed up and down as he swallowed. She begged her arm to move so she could grab his tie. She wanted to yank it toward her and wrap it tightly around her wrist, choking him. Watching him as he struggled for air, begging it to move in his lungs, to give him life. Watching as his skin turned a hue of greyish blue and he slipped into unconsciousness, then went limp as the blood in his veins slowed with death. Normally, these kinds of thoughts would scare her. She was not capable of murder. But he was. And he was not going to hesitate to kill her first. She wiggled her thumb, but beyond that she could not move her arm. She realized that she could not defend herself against him now. These next few sweet, unsuffocated breaths were going to be her last.

_Do it, Draco Malfoy._

She allowed her eyes to close as she did not have the energy to keep them open any longer. A tear burned her eye as it formed beneath her eyelid, then seeped through her lashes. It hung on a bottom eyelash for a moment, and then slid down her cheek and ran down her neck, giving her a chill. She waiting for her head to lull to the side as he slid the pillow from under her and nestled it over her face. But he just sat there, staring at her. He cleared his throat.

"I just wanted to say," he said, sounding wounded, like someone had shoved a knife between his ribs, "that I am sorry." Hermione was confused, and she felt herself slipping back into the dream-like state that she so often fell into without wanting it. Draco Malfoy just said he was sorry. She fought to stay conscious. She wanted him to say more. What was he sorry for? For attacking her? For the years of torment he inflicted upon her? The tone in his voice made her think it was more than just the events that unfolded today, that he was sorry for more than just turning her bones into powder. Another wave of pain shot through her as he shot up out of the chair and turned from her, walking quickly to exit the hospital wing. Something spooked him.

She then heard the voices of Dumbledore and Professor Snape, arguing as they now entered. She succumbed to the pain and submitted to lights behind her eyelids again. Madame Pomfrey's voice emerged from the office in the back as she greeted the men.

"Ah, good afternoon, Headmaster!" She said brightly as she hustled toward them. "What can I do for you?"

"Yes, Madame Pomfrey," Dumbledore said as he perched himself above Hermione's head. "I was hoping we could give Miss Granger some Wiggenweld Potion to wake her so I may speak with her." Hermione was familiar with Wiggenweld Potion. It reverses the effects of sleep and paralysis potions. Although she was in pain, she knew that the mixture of paralysis potion had some pain killers mixed in, and she did not want to be jerked out of the hold of the potion and thrown into the real pain that lie under the bandages on her legs. _Please send them away, Madame Pomfrey_.

She heard her clambering through one of the many cabinets strewn about the hospital wing. "I will need to give her a light sedative before I release her from the paralysis." _Oh, bless you, you gentle, wonderful woman!_ She held up a glass to Hermione's lips. She wondered if she could even swallow, but it seemed like her throat woke up as soon as the up touched her mouth. A warm nectar slid down her throat and she felt her eyelids decrease in weight. She opened her eyes fully, and squinted as the afternoon sun poured through the windows. She looked up at Dumbledore. His face was stern and serious. She had never seen him look like this before. Then she looked over to Snape, who was avoiding her gaze. He looked genuinely worried. She knew exactly what was going to be asked of her.

"Hermione," Dumbledore said gently, as if his words might hurt her even more. He wanted to know what happened this morning, if she believed Malfoy attacked her out of hatred. She held up her hand, thankful for finally having the wonderful feeling of functioning limbs. She swallowed, trying to ebb the dryness out of her throat. She could condemn Draco to expulsion. Have his wand snapped in half so he could never even make tea with magic. Part of her knew he deserved it, wanted to ruin his life like he had so often tried to ruined hers. But words spilled out of her mouth before she even knew what she was saying. All she could think of were those words from Draco's mouth that still burned her ears and buzzed around her clearing head. He was sorry. Sorry for so much more than just what was on the surface. Or at least, she hoped he was.

"He didn't mean it," she said with a dry mouth. "We were just practicing." She felt her lips curve up into a smile. She was actually smiling at the thought of Draco Malfoy. The thought made her feel strange, and her head began swimming as she set it back on the pillow and shut her eyes as they started becoming heavy again. "He's rather good at nonverbal spells," she lied, the smile continuing to stain her lips as another cup touched her mouth and the sour grape taste seeped into her mouth as she fell once again into her dream, the pain lessening as she finally fell asleep, the green and yellow patches dancing around an uncannily pleasant image of Draco Malfoy.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>I sure hope you like it. I wrote it quickly to appease my readers before they began rioting in the streets. So, like I said before, it's not easy to write often, but I promise that as soon as the chance arises, you will not be disappointed. Until next time, folks! Remember to follow, favorite, and review, review, review!


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note**: Here's chapter 9.

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><p><strong>9.<strong>

Draco sprinted down the corridor and into the boys' lavatory, jamming his face into the nearest toilet bowl and purging himself of all the contents that rested in his bowels. He released it all until nothing came out with his violent retches, and he rested his hot face on the cold toilet seat. He tried to wrap his head around what had just happened moments before. He apologized to Granger, she was petrified of him, and then she _lied_ for him to Dumbledore so he would not be expelled from Hogwarts. Flat out lied for no outward reason. He was flooded with a plethora of emotions now as he attempted to stand up, all of them muddied together so he was unable to even discern what he was really feeling. He picked one out of the mixed and dwelled on it. He chose the most familiar of the lot.

He hated Hermione Granger. He hated her. What if he did not want to live? What if he was perfectly fine with this new fate of being murdered by the hand of the Dark Lord so that he would never have to deal with anymore of this ever again? He would never have to see his father continue on with his putrid existence, watch his mother wither away into this shell she has become, stand by as his despicable aunt killed people for sport, or watch himself turn into something he never wanted to become in the first place. He looked in the mirror, sweat beading at the top of his forehead as strands of blonde fell from their designated places. He did not try to sweep them back. Instead, he turned on the sink faucet and thrust his face into the running water, letting it run across his face and into his hair. He hated Hermione Granger and he hated himself.

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><p>Snape stepped into his office and shut the door tightly behind him before he rested his face in his hands. He did not expect to see Draco leaving the hospital wing when they entered, and he certainly did not expect Hermione to lie for him. He did not know she was capable of lying for anyone. Especially a Slytherin and more especially Draco Malfoy. He straightened up when he heard a shuffling coming from the other side of the room.<p>

"It is rude to snoop," he said dryly. Suddenly, a blonde figure in a silk, green overcoat emerged from behind a bookcase. She moved in a rigid fashion, as if her body ached and she were attempting to hide it. Snape rushed over to her and pulled over a chair for her to sit down. She held a hand to her forehead as she swayed. "Narcissa," he said, "what are you doing here?" Now that she was sitting and not about to fall over, he looked at her face and noticed a shade of purple circling her left eye and a pinkish-blue knot sprouting from her forehead, barely hidden under her hairline. "What happened to you?" He ran his thumb gently over the bump on her forehead, examining it carefully. Narcissa sniffed.

"Lucius. He found something of mine. I'm such a silly woman. It was my fault. I—" A light 'shh' came from Snape's lips as he stared at her, watching as the tears began to form on her bottom lashes.

"These things will never be your fault," he said. He stood up and headed for a small glass cabinet in the corner of the room. He picked out a small vial of clear liquid and a cloth. He wet the cloth with the potion and began to dab it over her eye carefully. "You deserve so much better, Narcissa." Narcissa sniffed again and looked up at him hopefully.

"Really, Severus?" Snape cleared his throat and looked away from her.

"Hold this on your eye." He walked over to his desk and turned his back to her. "What did Lucius find that made him so angry?" He could hear her stiffen up at this newly posed question, as if she was wondering if she should answer it truthfully.

She hesitated for a moment. "The post owl," she began shakily. "The post owl brought… a rather large bill to the house. Lucius did not like that I had spent so much money." Snape could tell that she was lying, but he did not question it. If she did not want to confide in him, he would not make her.

"Well, he married a woman with expensive taste," he said coldly. Narcissa gave a wet chuckle, not sure if this was comment was supposed to be sincere or a bit spiteful. Snape got into the glass cabinet once more and came back with two glasses of fire whisky. He handed one to her and she took it from him rather quickly. "So, what do I owe the pleasure for this visit?" He said. Narcissa took a hardy sip from her glass.

"I was here about my son," she said very matter-of-fact.

"Oh?" He said. Snape wondered how she had found out about the previous events occurring with Draco and Hermione. He sat down beside her. "Well, the Granger girl lied for him. After shattering her legs, I figured she would say anything to get him expelled but—"

"Expelled?" She questioned loudly. "What do you mean 'expelled?' Severus, the term just began! What in the bloody hell could have happened already that could have my son expelled?" She winced under her aching body. Snape paused for a moment. He had said too much already. He exhaled deeply and explained the entire situation. Narcissa began crying again. "I hoped he would not turn violent. Severus, I thought you were going to try to keep him from turning into this?"

"Narcissa," Snape said gently. "You know about how I felt about Lily Evans." Narcissa nodded, and gave him a puzzling look, like she did not know where he was going with this. "Lily saved me. If you want to save Draco's soul, I believe the only way is the most drastic way. We have to give him Lily Evans."

Her eyes widened. "And by Lily Evans you mean…"

"Hermione Granger."

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><p>It was nearly a month before Hermione walked back into the Potions classroom. Her recovery took much longer than expected, and as the days turned into weeks, Draco felt worse and worse about all of it, and hated her even more for making him feel so awful. The reason her recovery time nearly quadrupled made Draco despise Ronald Weasley even more, which he wondered how it was even possible. Hermione was just a day or two away from being released from her casts that surrounded her legs. Ron and Harry snuck into the hospital wing as the lanterns burned low and sat by her bed. They brought her candies from the weekend's trip to Hogsmeade. Harry gave her some chocolate frogs and cauldron cakes, and Ron brought a case of butterbeers for the three to share. Hermione took one sip and then her body went stiff and her back arched uncomfortable as she began to seize. Her mouth started to foam and her eyes rolled in the back of her head. Her limbs started to writhe uncontrollably. Harry yelled for Madame Pomfrey as Ron just stared at her, completely petrified at this sight of Hermione having a vicious seizure. Apparently, some ferments that were present in the butterbeer reacted with the pain killers she was taking. After Madame Pomfrey got Hermione through the seizure, her legs were rebroken from the rigidness and writhing, and Harry and Ron both got two weeks of detention.<p>

Draco bore holes in the back of Ron's head as they took their seats in front of their cauldrons. Draco watched as Hermione squeezed herself at the end of the table beside Harry. Since she had not been present for most of the classes since the start of term, everyone was paired off, and she was the odd one out. She raked her fingers through her hair as Professor Slughorn singled her out.

"Miss Granger, you are in need of a partner, I see," he said as he scanned the room quickly, searching for an empty seat. Draco looked around, then noticed that Blaise was not beside him. _Dammit! Blaise skipped class today to be with Daphne Greengrass. That bloated cow_. Draco spread himself out and threw his bag beside him, to make it look like the space beside him was indeed occupied. But it obviously failed. "Ah!" Slughorn said as he caught Draco's eye. "There's a seat right beside Mister Malfoy! You will be partners today as we brew the Angel's Trumpet Draught!" Hermione bit her lip as she scooped up her books and headed toward the back of the class where Draco sat. He continued to sprawl out, barely giving her room to place her things on the table. "Now, please turn to page five-hundred twenty and we will get started! The first pair whose potion begins to sing carols wins the medal!" As Hermione pulled out her chair, Draco sprang up and headed toward the ingredients cabinet.

She was not sure how this was going to work. Was their interaction in the hospital wing last month going to turn things around? Were they friends? Were they supposed to be cordial toward each other now? Were they still neck and neck enemies and nothing will have changed? Hermione decided that who they were to each other would remain on Draco's shoulders. She would reciprocate whatever he gave her. If he was pleasant, she would be too. If he acted like an asshole to her, she would give him hell. And if he ever attacked her again, she wouldn't tell Dumbledore to expel him. She would poison him. Or smother him. Or inject air into his veins. She was no longer going to be his victim.

He returned a few minutes later with armfuls of ingredients and tonics. He set them down on the table and thumbed through his book, not even acknowledging Hermione's presence. Hermione said nothing as she reached for a vial of rat tonic and began to measure it out in a tiny spoon.

"Malfoy," she finally said softly as she chopped up some ashwinder eggs.

"Granger, please. Let's just make this potion and get this over with." Draco said with gritted teeth. Hermione paused for a moment. Obviously they weren't going to be overly cordial to each other.

"I was just going to recommend we use a lower temperature for heating the potion. I read in a book that just a difference of ten degrees can—"

"Of course, you read it in a fucking book, Granger. Do what you want, I don't give a damn." Somehow, Hermione felt that he was really holding back from what he normally would have said to her. No real insults. No name calling. The remaining two hours went by in muteness. They silently worked out a system that they would each work on every other line of instructions. Hermione dropped in the unicorn hairs, Draco turned up the heat under the cauldron, Hermione stirred seven times clockwise, Draco pulverized the horn of bicorn. This system worked out pretty well, since about five minutes before class was over, the pearly white liquid in their cauldron began to emanate a lovely rendition of The Boar's Head Carol which echoed loudly through the classroom.

"Well done! Miss Granger and Mister Malfoy have done it! And what an exquisite tune! Twenty points to Gryffindor and Slytherin, and you win today's medal!" Professor Slughorn sang as he draped a heavy silver trinket around Hermione's neck. For the first time in two hours, Hermione smiled as she thanked Professor Slughorn. She turned around to see Draco, but just caught a flash of his school robes as he swept out the back of the classroom and their cauldron had already been wiped clean. Spotless. Their potion that was for nobody's eyes except their own.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Yes, I realize there was not much exciting going on in this one. But, after New Year's I will be off for three days so I think I will have time to write a nice, big, fat, action-packed chapter (or two) for you hungry readers! So I hope this will hold you until then. If you enjoy this story, please, follow, favorite and review:)


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note: **Hi all! Sorry it took a while for this one. It was a very crazy and stressful couple weeks of work. Like I'm talking really not fun. So here is chapter 10 and I hope you enjoy it.

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><p><strong>10.<strong>

Hermione continued to stare at the empty cauldron sitting on the table in front of her as the large medal weighed down on her neck that was still slightly stiff from her long stay in that uncomfortable bed in the hospital wing. She could not understand it, but for some reason, she was _upset_. But why? She did just make the best Angel's Trumpet Draught in the entire classroom, even in the whole time Professor Slughorn had been teaching, he made sure she knew in a drunken, excited tone. As soon as the second hand hit the twelve on the clock, she slammed the medal down on the table beside the empty cauldron, slung her bag over her shoulder and exited the Potions classroom without even a glance toward Ron or Harry. She knew they would be expecting her to be proud and exhilarated at being the best, which she normally would be, but right now she could not bear having to explain her bad spirits to them, especially when she did not even understand it herself.

Without realizing where her body was taking her, her calves began burning as she climbed the seventh flight of stairs. She was grateful for being alone for once, no Ron or Harry by her side like they always were. Of course, she loved them, but sometimes she loved her solidarity too. She arrived at the top of the staircase and her ears perked just as her legs buckled beneath her. Though the bones in her legs were fresh and new, they would never be as strong as the originals, and sometimes they cramped and buckled. She had gotten used to it, but at this moment they seemed a burden as she wanted to know what, or who she had just heard. She thought she heard a sound of a sad sigh, a muffled wet cough, a tiny sob. Then she heard a heavy metal door slam. Once the rigidity in her limbs receded, she hobbled down the corridor, and realized she was standing in front of the whimsical tapestry depicting the trolls in tutu's learning how to dance ballet. She turned to the opposite wall, bare and out of place, as the walls all over the castle were normally covered with portraits and paintings, gawking at the students or playing loud, raucous games of cards. Not this one, though. Because this wall hid something she knew very well: The Room of Requirement.

She wondered who had just gone inside. She figured she knew who it was, as the only people who really knew its existence were the people who were in Dumbledore's Army. There were also the Slytherins who were part of Umbridge's Inquisitorial Squad lapdogs, but even they had no idea how to access the room outside of blowing a huge hole in the stone wall. She walked quickly up and down the hallway in front of the bare wall. _I need to know who went inside_. She thought to herself three times. She was focused. Intent. She thought she heard the sound of the door conjuring itself, like vines crawling up a wall. She turned, excited, and then saw that the wall was just as empty as it had been moments before. _You cannot enter while someone else is inside_. She bit her lip, thinking. She did not know why she was so curious to know who had gone into the Room of Requirement, but for some reason, she needed to find out. She sat down a few yards away from where the door would be, in a small alcove where she would not be easily spotted, took a book from her bag and waited.

An hour or so went by when she heard the door materializing on the bare wall. She peeked around to get a glimpse, her heart racing. She was unsure why her adrenaline was pulsing through her. It was probably just some Ravenclaw, Ernie Macmillan, perhaps, trying to find a secluded place to study. The door cracked open slowly, and a small light glittered from a pair of peeking eyes, checking to see if the coast was clear out in the empty corridor. After a few cautious moments, a body emerged watchfully. Hermione's eyes widened as her gaze rested upon him. Draco Malfoy looked somewhat shaken, his usual perfect blonde hair was askew on top of his head and his stormy grey eyes looked wild, like a scared animal. Hermione furrowed her eyebrows. It was interesting to see him like this, the boy who was usually so stoic and put-together was now stirred up inside. She watched as he traipsed down the corridor quickly, as if he had not just arisen from the most mysterious room in the entire castle.

Hermione followed him for the next two weeks as he ventured secretly into the Room of Requirement, trying to figure out a way to follow him inside before the door disappeared. She tried numerous spells in hopes of lodging the door, or freezing it open, but nothing worked. In her desperation, she even attempted to throw a book in the opening before it closed, but the book, strangely enough, burst into thousands of tiny bubbles as the door crushed it and disappeared. On a Friday night, Hermione reached into her bag and pulled out an invisibility cloak which she had asked Harry if she could borrow. He willingly obliged, as she explained she needed it to spend extra time in the library to study up on some Runes homework. She waited in the alcove for Malfoy to come by and open the door.

He was later than usual, and his color was paler than she had ever seen him. She draped the silky fabric over her head, making sure she was fully invisible and she tiptoed toward him as he stared up at the wall, mouthing words, begging it to open for him. She stood closely behind him, holding her breath, as her mouth was nearly resting on the nape of his neck because she was so close to him. The door appeared in front of them, and she took a small breath in. She had never seen it like this before. The top of the door was only inches from the domed ceiling, and the knocker was as big as her head, heavy laden silver that shined to the point where you could see your reflection. Malfoy turned around and looked her straight in the eye, or it seemed like he did. He did not see her though, and proceeded through the door as she followed closely behind him.

Once inside, Hermione hung back from him as she admired the room. It was as large as the Great Hall and miscellaneous items were piled on top of each other, brushing the ceiling. She saw broken brooms and books, wooden boxes with key holes, dusty cabinets, gaudy jewelry like diamond earrings and something that looked like a tiara with an eagle on it. She was compelled to touch it when she heard a familiar screeching. She looked to her left and saw a large cage that had its small door bent open, and electric blue Cornish pixies were whizzing overhead. She gripped the cloak tighter around her. She definitely did not want one of them to spot her and give her away. She walked slowly toward Draco again, who was now standing in front of a large, mahogany object that reminded her of a wardrobe. She thought she saw a tear resting on his bottom lashes, but then she could hear his teeth gnashing and his face became red.

"You think you're so bloody clever, don't you?" He said, his teeth clenched. Hermione froze, not saying a word. He waited a moment, then hammered a fist against the cabinet angrily. "Answer me!" He shouted. "I know you're there." Hermione gripped her wand as she saw him raise his in her general direction. "Hominem revelio." She felt the invisibility cloak slide off of her like water. She tried to grab at it, grip it tightly to her to continue concealing her presence, but she stood there in the middle of the room, feeling like she was stripped naked. Malfoy's eyes rested upon her. Hermione stood up straight, her fingers wrapped around her wand, but she kept it at her side.

"Hello, Malfoy," she said softly, as if not to startle a vicious animal to attack. His face was still as red as ever and a vein pulsed in his forehead.

"I know you have been following me, Granger. Always have been the nosey little bitch, haven't you?" He raised his wand and pointed it right between her eyes. "It would be so convenient. To kill you in here where nobody would find you. Nobody has even thought about this room since your stupid little club last year. I would bet most of your dumb little friends would not even be able to find it again."

"But you found it pretty easily," she said, her voice still calm. "How long have you been coming here?"

"Since a couple of weeks after we blew your lot out of the water."

"Oh. So what's that?" She said, pointing curiously to the wardrobe, or now that she got a better look at it, it was more of a cabinet. He looked over his shoulder to the object he had positioned himself in front of, as if he were protecting it.

"It's none of your bloody fucking business, that's what it is, Granger!" He shoved his wand toward her. "I will kill you, you filthy mudblood." Hermione did not move. "I said I will kill you!" She stayed perfectly still. "Raise your wand!"

"No," Hermione said firmly.

"Raise it!" A quick flash of blue emulated from the tip of his wand, missing her and ricocheting off of a dusty mirror, stunning one of the pixies floating in the air.

"No, Malfoy! I am not going to fight you." Draco scoffed.

"Of course you won't. You Gryffindors, always overflowing with your _pride_. I think you are just full of shit. Just as scared as everyone else, hiding behind your precious Dumbledore. Well, we will see how long that lasts." Draco could see the puzzled look on Hermione's face, and he laughed. "Still haven't figured it out, Granger? I would have thought that the brightest witch of the age would be able to understand that the only thing standing between the Dark Lord was that old buffoon. As soon as he's out of the picture, all will be right again."

"And who is going to kill him? He's the best wizard of all time, and it will take more than just—"

"Stop talking so damn much, Granger!" He said as he repositioned his wand toward her head. "You don't know a damn thing." He started to laugh again as he looked at her. "It's funny, because you think you are so smart, being able to hover feathers a few feet off of a table, or turn a goblet of water into pumpkin juice. Oh, what amazing magic that is! You know what I think? I think the reason you are so good at all this useless shit is because—"

"Please stop," she said quietly.

"It's because you know you don't deserve it! You are just as repulsed by your filthy blood as I am!"

"That—that's not true."

"It bloody well is! You practice and study so much so you can feel like you actually belong with people who are actually magical. Like me. And your stupid friend Ron. He is a pure-blood, after all. And you love him, but you are scared he won't love you because your magic isn't as deep set as his. You are a freak of nature, Granger. That's all there is to it. And you are absolutely disgusting. Now, raise your wand, or I will kill you right here."

Hermione shook her head. She felt like she might cry, but nothing came. All she felt was remorse for this person standing in front of her.

"You won't kill me. You had the perfect opportunity to when I was in the hospital wing. Nobody was watching. You could've just put the pillow over my face or poisoned me or something. I was completely helpless. Instead, you _apologized _to me. Oh, yeah, Malfoy. You're a real killer. Bloody coward, more like it."

"Don't call me a coward."

"Then don't call me a mudblood. I deserve my magic way more than you deserve yours. I use mine in hopes of making the world a better place to live in. You just use yours to be a jackass most of the time. I'm not afraid of you." Hermione picked up the invisibility cloak off of the floor and turned to walk out of the room.

"Granger!" He shouted after her, his tone shaky and unsure. "Why didn't you tell them? Why didn't you just say that I attacked you out of hatred like it actually was and get me expelled?" Hermione stopped, but did not turn around.

"Everyone deserves another chance, Malfoy. You have yours now. So you can either use it to continue to be a coward, or you can use it to change. That's all." Hermione ripped the door open, and slammed it behind her as she left, leaving Draco Malfoy standing in front of the cabinet, his wand still raised and a single bead of sweat forming on his hot forehead.

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> I hope you liked that one. I will try to get the next one out soon, but if my life keeps going crazy like it has been, I can't make promises. But I will definitely try. Until then, follow, favorite, and review! Thanks y'all:)


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note: **Got this one out quicker than expected. I hope you like it:)

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><p><strong>11.<strong>

Draco ran through the field in the valley near his house, wielding a twig that he slashed around, pretending to stun enemies left and right. The wildflowers were almost as high as his armpits and he struggled through the brush as he continued forward.

"Oh no!" He cried. "The tentacula has got me!" He fell down as his ankle got caught in a knot of weeds. He stared upward for a moment, admiring the fluffy clouds that perched in the sky. Then a shadow appeared above him.

"What's a tentacula?" A sweet voice said to him. A girl of about seven years old, his own age, stood above him wearing a yellow dress, which meshed perfectly with the wildflowers that nearly engulfed her. She had long, black hair that fell over her shoulder in two braids. Draco stumbled over his words as she bent down and started ripping the weeds away from his entangled ankle.

"It's a plant. Really nasty thing. I'm Draco," he said as he pushed himself up off of the ground. The little girl giggled. "Why are you laughing?" He said, wanting to sound angry, but her laugh was almost infectious and he started to smile.

"Because it's just a funny name! I have never met someone named Draco before," she said. Draco huffed.

"And I suppose your name is any less funny?" He said, crossing his arms.

"I'm Rosy. It's a pretty ordinary name, I guess." Draco smiled.

"I've never met anyone named Rosy." The girl picked up the small stick that Draco had been playing with.

"What was it you were playing?" Draco grabbed the stick and searched along the ground. He found another twig and handed it to her.

"It's a wand!" He said excitedly. Rosy had a puzzled look on her face.

"A wand?"

"Yeah, you wave it around and magic comes out of it!" She still looked confused. He demonstrated, twirling the stick in the air in an extravagant motion and made up an incantation. "Rollus applesaurus!" The girl looked around to see if anything had happened. "Look out behind you! The applesaurus creature is coming at you! Quick, make magic!" Draco ducked down and Rosy whipped around, her braids lifting off of her shoulders as she held up her make-believe wand.

"Um," she hesitated. "Magico dinosauro!" She yelled, then ducked beside Draco. Draco then waved his wand and said another spell.

"Good job! I think we stunned him for now. Let's get away from him before he wakes up!" Rosy smiled as Draco held out his hand for her, and they continued through the field together as friends.

"Draco, where have you been?" Narcissa said as she sat in the entryway on a green sofa, reading a book.

"I was in the field. I made a friend!" He said excitedly,

"Oh, you did?" Narcissa said as she pulled Draco onto her lap and began wiping a smear of dirt off of his cheek. "And who was this friend?"

"Her name is Rosy. She didn't know what a wand was, which was pretty strange, but she is really fun!" Narcissa furrowed her brow.

"She is a muggle girl then?" Draco just shrugged his shoulders.

"I guess so. She has long hair like you," he said as he toyed with his mother's long blonde tresses.

"Well, I am glad you made a friend. When will you see her again?"

"I think tomorrow afternoon she will be in the field. Can I go tomorrow to play with her? Please?" Narcissa chuckled at her son's dirty face pleading at her.

"Of course you can, Draco. Now go upstairs and get cleaned up before your father comes home and sees you like this." Her smile faded as Draco headed up the stairs and the image of Lucius entered her mind.

A few moments later, the front door opened, and he strolled in, throwing his travelling cloak on a chair and huffing loudly.

"Good evening, Lucius. How was—"

"Is dinner ready yet?" He cut her off.

"Yes, dear. Just waiting for Draco to come down from his bath."

"Well if he is not down here in three minutes we are starting without him. Come," he said, gesturing her toward the dining room. "Set the table." Narcissa obeyed as Draco came tromping down the stairs.

"Mum! When we were playing today, that nasty applesaurus came out of nowhere and we had to fight it and—"

"Who was this you were playing with, Draco?" Draco saw his father and suddenly looked down and backed away slowly, as if he had just run up on a hippogriff without bowing first.

"Rosy. Mom said she's a muggle girl." Lucius's eyebrows raised up.

"Oh?" He said, almost angrily.

"Draco," Narcissa said shakily as she set three plates on the table. "You are not to see that girl again." Draco stomped and opened his mouth to protest.

"But you said I could—"

"It does not matter what I said! You will listen to what I am saying now! You will not see that filthy, vile girl again and you will do as I say! Do you understand?" She winced at her own words, but kept her face stony as she looked at Draco. Tears rose up and rested on his blonde lashes as his face turned red.

"I don't know what 'vile' means but it doesn't sound very nice," he said and he turned and ran for the stairs.

"Draco, we are about to eat dinner," Lucius said coldly.

"I'm not hungry!" He yelled as he ran up the staircase. "And Rosy is a nice girl! She isn't filthy and you are just being unfair because she can't do magic! She's still my friend and I love her!" He screamed from the top of the stairs, then he slammed his door and did not come out until the sun had risen the next morning.

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><p>Draco stood motionless in the same spot for what felt like an hour. He lowered his wand after his arm started burning. He felt a chill run through his as a breeze carried through the room. He blinked away his daze and turned to look at the cabinet again. It was just a large box made of wood, but it filled him with anger and he lashed out at it, punching it and kicking it. He wanted to blast a hole through it, but his arm was so sore he could not bring his wand up high enough to aim. He felt so ashamed. He wished his could just crawl into that cabinet and vanish himself. But he did not want to come out on the other end. He just wanted to disappear and never emerge in another place. Just vanish altogether. Forever.<p>

How could Hermione Granger, just a mudblood girl who he considered to be beneath him, stand in front of him like that, not even raising her wand, and defeat him with words so sharp that they dug in his ribs like a thousand knives. He wanted to hate her. He wanted to find her and put a nasty curse on her that would disfigure her for the rest of her life, but then those thoughts made him feel ashamed. Because she was right. Everything she said was exactly right. Draco leaned against the cabinet and slid own to the floor.

Was she really beneath him? Was he really any better than she was? His instinct screamed 'yes,' because that was what he was taught. But his brain, as it became less muddied and more clear than he felt like it had ever been, started to say 'no.' She was brilliant. She could conjure a full-bodied patronus, and he could barely even conjure a wisp of a cloud. She was kind to everyone she met. _Except me_, he thought. But that was not true. She only reciprocated his actions. And she could have been much worse to him. She saved his life. Gave him a second chance. Tears started to burn his eyes as he banged his head against the cabinet. This black hole that filled him up was swallowing him and he felt like he could not claw his way out. Then, without even wanting it to, a memory stirred in him, and an image appeared inside his eyelids. That little girl with the black braids and the yellow dress. Rosy. She was so pretty and gentle and innocent and she accepted him. He accepted her without a second thought. They were friends and he believed that he loved her. She smiled at him as she knotted a crown of flowers together, sitting cross-legged in the field where they met.

That was real. Although it was short-lived, what he felt for Rosy was real. What he had been feeling since then, this hatred and loathing that filled him to the brim, was made by his father. These were not his own feelings. They were merely planted and cultivated inside him until they overtook him like a mountain of weeds in his soul. He did not want to be like his father. He wanted to be like he was when he was seven.

He stood up on shaky legs, barely able to support his own weight on his knees that threatened to buckle underneath him at any moment. Once he gained composure, he slowly exited the room into the empty seventh floor corridor, and Hermione was nowhere in sight.

He headed down multiple staircases to the dungeons when Snape intercepted him on the ground floor. He placed his hands on his shoulders and his face gave way to bad news.

"Draco," he said softly. He looked into his eyes and noticed that Draco had evidence of dried tears. "I have some bad news. From your father." Draco pushed past him and began descending the next flight of stairs.

"I don't give a damn about my father. If you are going to tell me he died then I would throw you a birthday party."

"Your mother is missing, Draco." Draco stopped in his tracks.

"Missing? What do you mean she's missing?" Snape shrugged slightly and met Draco on the middle stair.

"She did not leave a note. Your father said he came home and she was just gone." Draco felt the weakness return to his body. He did not realize he had started to fall until Snape was hoisting him back up by his arms. "I am so sorry that you have to hear it this way. Your father would have come to tell you himself but he had Ministry business—"

"And business is more important than family. It always has been." He tried to head down the stairs but his legs did not want to cooperate as he began to stumble. Snape reached his arm under his armpit and around his shoulder and helped him to the dungeons. He muttered the password and the stone wall began to recede, revealing the common room which glowed a soft green.

"Draco, if you need anything—"

"I'll be fine." He said shortly, and he ducked into the common room without another word to Snape. In the boys' dormitory, he was the only person. He was grateful for this, because his face was becoming hot with ebbing tears. This was the last thing he needed, knowing that his mother was missing and no one knew anything about it. Through his blurring vision, he caught a glimpse of something sitting at the top of his bed, nestled neatly on his pillow. He wiped a tear away and approached it and saw that it was a flower, still damp with dew. He recognized it immediately. Snowy white, slender, silky petals with a golden trumpet in the center. It resembled a daffodil, but he knew this flower to be a narcissus. There was a note attached by a silver string, tied around the stem.

'I am sorry and I love you.'

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> So it looks like Draco is having second thoughts on being a jack ass! That's good, right? Well, we will see later how this all unfolds, but until then, follow, favorite, and review!


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Note: **Next chapter!

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><p><strong>12.<strong>

Draco stroked the snowy white petals between his fingers tips, admiring their silky feel and wondering what this meant for him. His mother left. It was not like she was kidnapped or killed like the thoughts that had originally gone through his mind when Snape had first told him. This flower was a sign that she flat out left and had no intention of returning. The idea of this was somewhat exhilarating, but at the same time, absolutely terrifying. He was worried for his mother. If they found her, they would surely kill her, and they would not make it a quick or painless death. They would torture her and draw out every ounce of life inside her body before they finally slit her throat. But then again, the images of his mother's disfigured body could not shake this other feeling he felt. He was proud. He was proud of his mother for doing what he could not do this entire time. She was not a coward, and her actions now set flames to the tiny spark that Hermione Granger had set inside him earlier that day. If his mother could do it, so could he.

He ripped out a piece of parchment from his notebook. He knew that it might be impossible, but he wanted to at least attempt to contact his mother. If he was going to do this, he needed support from someone who knew what he was going through. He took a quill from his bag and began to scribble on the parchment, trying not to sound too specific in case his note were to be intercepted, but not too vague so his mother could understand what he was trying to say.

_I don't know where you are, but I am joining you. I don't know how yet, but I promise. Stay safe. Your son._

He figured this was enough to let his mother know that he was going to follow her lead and turn his back on the Dark Lord. He sealed the letter in the envelope and ran out of the dormitories and toward the owlery. Once he arrived, a familiar face flew over to him, landed on his shoulder and began nipping on his earlobe affectionately, eager for a journey. Draco stroked the Eagle Owl's feathers.

"I wish I could let you deliver this, but you are too recognizable," he said as he crossed the small room to a Barn Owl that stretched its wings as it awoke from a nap. The Eagle Owl sprung off of his shoulder, feeling jilted, as Draco tied the letter to the Barn Owl's outstretched leg. He led it to the window and spoke his instructions. "I know you probably won't be able to find her, and that is okay if you don't. Please try and find my mother. She won't be at Malfoy Manor, but she is out there. Please find her." The owl looked him in the eyes and almost seemed to give a slight nod before it took off into the sunset sky on a journey that would no doubt lead to a dead end. Though he knew the letter would probably not meet its addressee, Draco felt relieved. Liberated. This was the start of something else. Something dangerous, and possibly even reckless, but definitely worth the risk. He was switching sides.

He ventured into the library, relieved that there were not that many students lurking about the bookshelves. It was not hard to find the person he was searching for. Hermione Granger was sitting at one of the front tables, perched behind a pile of books, and pouring over a rather large text with archaic looking symbols. He was not sure how he was going to approach her, as not more than a couple of hours earlier, they had a rather nasty exchange. Just a few hours. It seemed like so much longer. Years even. He felt like it should have taken longer than just a few hours for him to turn his back on his life completely and make the decision to risk everything he had. But her words rung true in his ears, and in his mind, there was no other way. He wanted to keep his mother safe, and this was the only way to do it. He strolled over to a nearby book case and plucked a small book from the shelf, Jiggery Pokery and Hocus Pocus, then slipped a sloppily scribbled note inside it, making sure a corner of the paper stuck out, so she would know to read it. He walked past her slowly and knocked her neatly laid pile of books to the floor.

"Careful, Granger!" He said with a hiss, secretly dropping his book with the note inside on the top of the pile that now lay strewn on the floor. He walked to the back of the library and watched. Hermione gave him a death glare as her face turned red. He felt sort of bad for making her angry, but it felt like home, and he suppressed a small smile as she started picking up her books. She slammed the first handful down on the table, and Madame Pince gave her a wince from the top of her glasses. Her reddened face now turned to a pink blush as she apologized sweetly. She then picked up the small book and examined it, confused. She knew that this book was not in her pile. Then, she peeled the note from its pages slowly, looking around curiously. She opened it, and read it.

_Meet me in the private study room. Please._

She looked around again, and rolled her eyes. At first, Draco thought she might dismiss him and deny his request, but he knew Granger. She was too curious to not find out what he wanted. He slipped into the room and waited for her to make her entry.

About five minutes passed before the door creaked open and that head of bushy brown hair entered, a couple of books held closely to her chest. She gave him a furtive look before cautiously closing the door, hesitating before letting the latch click into place.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" She said rather spitefully. Her tone stung him slightly. But what did he honestly expect? That she would be sweet to him and bring him a plate of sugar cookies? He decided that just the fact she met him in here was enough.

"I need to talk to you."

"Talk to me? Or insult me? I don't think I have time for this, Malfoy. I said everything I want to say to you already, and I have a Runes exam to study for." She turned around to exit when he called out to her, a begging squeak escaping his throat.

"Granger, please. I—" he hesitated. He never expected these words to ever come out of his mouth. Especially not to Hermione Granger. "I need your help." Hermione took her hand off of the door knob as Draco lifted his wand. "Muffli—"

"Don't you dare put a Silencing Charm on this room! I want people to hear me scream if you decide to attack me again!" Draco rolled his eyes.

"I will not bloody hurt you, Granger! Merlin, you have trust issues."

"Yeah, I would say I do have trust issues with a Slytherin whose sole purpose is to exterminate me!" Draco bit the inside of his cheek. She did have a point. But he could not risk anyone overhearing what he was going to say to her, so he did something he did not even realize he was doing until he had already done it. He handed his wand to her and stepped back to the corner of the room and glanced out the window. Hermione was silent for a moment, and then he heard her whisper.

"Muffliato. Colloportus." She remained in the same spot, close to the door. He did not blame her. She was smart, and needed to be close to an exit in case things went bad. But she had his wand. She had the upperhand. Maybe she did it to not take advantage of her upperhand. "I'm listening, Malfoy."

"You're sure nobody can hear us?"

"Not a soul." He continued to look out the window.

"It's so interesting how the sun goes down and the sky is no longer blue. It's orange and pink and yellow and green. Everything but blue," Draco said, trailing off. Hermione sighed.

"That's very poetic of you. But I doubt you called me in here to discuss the color of the sky." She allowed him to be silent for a moment. To gather his thoughts before speaking. Though he was brash and crude, he was also very meticulous and precise, and she knew he needed time to piece together what he wanted to present to her. She thought she saw his hands shake as he leaned against the window sill.

"Where are Potter and Weasley?" He finally said, stalling. Hermione sighed again, but tried not to sound exasperated with his delaying. She deduced this must be difficult for him.

"Um," she began, "the common room, I think. Why?" Draco scoffed.

"Just curious why the air smelled so fresh."

"Look, Malfoy. If you wanted me here just to insult my friends then I don't think—"

"I'm sorry," he spat. He turned, expecting her to have her hand on the doorknob again, ready to exit, but she was leaning against the table. She raised her eyebrows, her impatience now showing clearly on her face. "For everything. The things I said to you earlier." Hermione just shrugged her shoulders.

"I've grown used to it by now. That's just the person you are, Malfoy."

"But—" he said softly, "But I don't want it to be." His words trailed off as he looked away from her. He could tell she was staring at him, those big, green eyes boring holes into him like a drill.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Her tone was mixed with curiosity, confusion, and something tender.

"It means that you were right. What you said to me in the Room of Requirement. You really think I can change?" Hermione looked at him sideways as he took a step toward her. She gave him a look like she was seeing a dog walking on its hindlegs.

"Of course," she finally said. He looked at her straight on. He was reminded of the girl in pink he admired a couple of years ago. His palms grew sweaty as she continued to stare at him. "When you say 'change,' what exactly—"

"I can't do this anymore, Granger. I can't be this horrible person anymore. All this hatred I have, it burns me from the inside out. I don't want to be like my father. I can't. I can't do this." Draco started gasping for air, like he was having a panic attack. Hermione rushed over to him and placed a hand on his back. Draco's first instinct was to pull away from her, but instead he pressed against her hand and let her lead him sit down in a chair. His forehead started to sweat. She let his breathing slow before she spoke.

"You don't have to be like your father," she cooed, continuing to rub his back. She thought it felt very foreign, comforting someone like this who tormented her to no end, but she moved in a motion that was not her own, or it did not feel like it.

Draco took a sharp breath in and looked up at her. "Why are you doing this?" Hermione took her hand off of his back and placed it in her lap.

"You asked for my help," she said. Draco just shook his head.

"But you don't have to. I honestly did not even expect you to agree to talk to me, and now here you are, bloody rubbing my back while I break down and you don't have to!"

"I know you are used to people who are only concerned with self-preservation, doing whatever it takes. I'm not a Slytherin, Malfoy. I am concerned with others. When someone asks for my help, I rarely decline. Even when it's someone like you who asks." She stood up and leaned against the wall. "Why did you come to me?" Draco looked away from her. He could not get that pink dress out of his mind.

"I know I can trust you. And there aren't many people around here that I can say that about. So you will help me then?"

Hermione sighed again and tossed him his wand. "I guess I have to, now, don't I?" She said with a smile, and she tiptoed out of the room, leaving Draco to further contemplate the colors of the dusky sky. Everything but blue.

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> So I skipped out on studying so I could finish this chapter. You're welcome! I don't know when I will have time to post the next installment, but it will get done and you can take that to the bank! Until then, favorite, follow and review, my lovelies!


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's Note:** I did not abandon you! Here is the next chapter.

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><p><strong>13.<strong>

The door clicked shut behind her as she clutched a couple of books tightly to her chest. Her heart was pounding quickly in her ears, but she only just now noticed, now that she was back out in the open. She brought the books up higher, right underneath her neck, just in case the throbbing beat of her heart was visible as it pulsed in her veins. She wanted to run out of the library and find a place to hide, scared that this new feeling, the exhilaration of having a secret this large, this important, _this dangerous_, would show on her face and in the quivering of her entire body. She wandered back to the table where she was sitting previously, consciously slowing her pace so not to seem rushed, and scooped up the remainder of the pile of books, trying to seem steady under the quake of her limbs. Madame Pince eyed her from the brim of her glasses as she made her way out of the library and up toward Gryffindor Tower.

She was breathing heavily when she finally made it to the portrait hole. The Fat Lady was not alone this evening. She reclined at an angle, her back resting against the edge of her ornate, gold frame, her hair falling against her pale skin in loose curls, resting on her heaving bosom as a gentleman fed her grapes. Her dress was hiked up above her thighs as she giggled and dark red wine sloshed around in a glass that swung around in her grasp. Hermione tapped her foot, annoyed, as the Fat Lady continued to laugh and twirl her hair around her fingers, obviously intoxicated. Hermione cleared her throat loudly, finally getting the Fat Lady's attention. Both of the people in the portrait jumped with a start. The Fat Lady shrieked as she pulled down her skirt and fixed the corset of her dress so her breasts were not as visible, spilling the wine in her glass all the way down her front. The man, who was even plumper than she was, grabbed around his pants leg, adjusting his trousers to hide the lump that bulged around his pocket.

"Salad dodger," Hermione said, quite perturbed. The man's face turned red.

"Excuse me?" He said angrily. "For such a polite-looking young lady, you sure are a real—"

"Egbert! It's just the password!"

"Some bloody ridiculous password." The portrait swung away from the wall and Hermione stepped into the portrait hole, trying not to giggle. It really was a silly password. One of many. As it shut behind her, she heard a high giggle and a very seductive 'Now, where were we?' come from the portrait at her back. Hermione felt like gagging. Ron and Harry sat on the sofa in front of the fireplace, pointing their wands at each other and laughing. Hermione saw that Ron had a long, orange beard that rested in his lap and Harry's eyebrows were so thick they completely obstructed his vision.

"What on earth?" Hermione said as she dropped the books on a table. The boys were startled.

"Bloody hell, Hermione!" Ron said, trying to spit some of his beard out of his mouth that got caught around his tongue as he talked. Harry turned his head at an awkward angle, trying to see her through his eyebrows.

"We were just, uh—"

"Transfiguration exam. Bloody brutal, really." Ron said as Harry flicked his wand at him and then himself, removing their ridiculous amounts of facial hair. Hermione laughed.

"Right," she said incredulously.

"You said you would be at the library all night," Harry said as he straightened up and walked toward her.

"Yeah," Ron said. "What happened to that?" He picked up a book and read the title, then placed it back down as he pursed his lips.

"It got a bit… crowded. Hard to focus. I figured I would be better off studying here."

"Well," Ron said as he clapped Harry on the back, "we don't want to be a bother to you, needing to study and all. Harry and I are going to see if there is any dessert left in the Great Hall!" Before Hermione could even open her mouth, the portrait had already swung closed behind the boys, leaving her alone in the Common Room with just her neat pile of books and her screaming thoughts.

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><p>Snape's palms were flat against the smooth, oak wood as he rested his weight on his desk. He had read the letter in front of him over and over, what seemed like hundreds of times, but could not seem to comprehend the words that were scribbled there, delicate but rushed, as if she had written it during a sprint down a dark alley.<p>

He had received the news of Narcissa's disappearance from Dumbledore. How Dumbledore was even aware of the situation as soon as it had happened, he was unsure. He explained to him that Lucius Malfoy returned home from work that evening and was unable to locate Narcissa. As he wandered through the house, he saw that furniture was overturned, pictures and glasses were smashed on the floor, and the bedroom door was shattered into splintered shards. It appeared that Narcissa had been violently attacked and taken against her will. Snape lied to Draco about this when he told him. He made it sound as if his mother had left willingly, unharmed, in the middle of the night where she would not be seen. But it was a lie. Or, at least he thought it was, until he received this letter.

_SS, I am writing to you to let you know that I am okay. I am unharmed and in a safe place. I just could not bear to be in that house any longer. There is no doubt that word of my disappearance has reached you, and I apologize for not writing to you sooner to explain. I have already reached out to Draco. Please remember our agreement. Keep him safe. Find a way. –NM_

Once the words finally made sense to him, a cry of relief escaped from deep within his throat. He was sure she was dead. He was sure that somehow The Dark Lord discovered that they made the Unbreakable Vow, or that they were meeting in secret, or that he loved a muggle-born girl once upon a time, or that Narcissa Malfoy loved her son far more than she could ever be loyal to this genocidal cause. He was terrified that the one glimmer of hope in this darkness he lived in, a possible way out of the abyss, had all been ripped away from him so suddenly, so violently. He released a shaky breath as he folded the letter neatly, placed it gently back into its envelope and hid it under some folders in the drawer of his desk. He wiped his palms on his trousers, smoothed his hair along his face, and exited his office.

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><p>"Granger and Malfoy," Snape said from the front of the classroom at the beginning of class, before the last stragglers even had time to find their seats. "You will remain partners for the remainder of the school year. No exceptions." Hermione looked over at Draco, trying not to make her gaze obvious. She saw his face was burning with anger.<p>

"Are you bloody joking?" He burst out. "You can't possibly think I am going to be partners with _that_ the entire year!" Small pockets of murmurs began all around the room. Hermione could not believe it. After what they had talked about before, he was just going to go back to _this person_? She knew it was too good to last. Draco Malfoy could never change. Harry brushed her arm with his finger gently, seeing how upset this made her, constantly being insulted by him, without fail. She lifted her head to look at him, feeling betrayed, when she saw it. A vein was bulging right beside his ear. That was not the same vein that bulged when he was angry. Now that she really looked, he looked more constipated than angry. He was actively pushing the blood to his face, mimicking anger. It was very convincing. She wanted to smile, but she slammed her book down on the table.

"Are you just going to overlook the fact that he bloody attacked me? Shattered my bones into ash, and we have to be partners all year?" She raised her voice, smooth and confident, in Snape's direction, trying so hard to maintain eye contact. Snape gave her a look of surprise.

"Miss Granger, I expected an outburst from Mister Malfoy, but surely not from you." He almost looked pleased. "Although I am rather amused by your resentment, the partnership is final. Ten points from Gryffindor." Hermione's mouth dropped open.

"And none from Slytherin?" Her false anger was beginning to be replaced with the honest kind.

"Make it fifteen. Anything else?" Hermione bit the inside of her cheek and sat down. She was now mad at Draco for making her do that, but she understood why. As far as anyone else was concerned, they still hated each other. It would look strange to all of a sudden _not _be at each other's throats, so she played along, even if it was at the cost of house points. She thought she saw a smirk crawl across Draco's face, but not the malicious kind she usually saw. This one was different, and she began to blush.

As the class filed out of the room and Draco brushed past, not uttering a word to her as he left, Snape called Hermione to his desk. Harry and Ron hung back as she slunk to the front, uneager to speak with him, bitter about how many points they had already lost because of him.

"Miss Granger," he said in a casual manner, "it seems that you have fallen behind in your studies. Very uncharacteristic, don't you agree?" Hermione scoffed.

"I was in the hospital wing for a long time. Because of Malfoy. Have you already forgotten?"

"Tone, Miss Granger. Watch your tone." Hermione shifted from one foot to the other. "I wanted to extend to you the opportunity for extra credit." Snape said. Hermione's features brightened. Those were her two favorite words when used together like that. "What this assignment entails is not something I have taught in class, nor will I teach it at any moment. Though you are very bothersome at times, it has not escaped my notice that you are incredibly intelligent and fully capable of this task." Hermione nodded eagerly, ready to accept her assignment. "I want you to come up with a high level spell that is completely your own. The more complex the spell, the more points you will receive on your final grade for the term. I do not want to see you conjure me a flower or turn your wand into a paintbrush. This is Defense Against the Dark Arts and I want to see some terrific. I understand this may be a lot of work for you to complete in the time before the winter holidays, so I am giving you the option to work on this with your class partner and _only_ your class partner. I highly recommend you seek the help of Mister Malfoy, regardless of your ill feelings toward him." Hermione made an effort to show the disgust on her face. "I will not even venture to wager that your grades are more important than some silly schoolyard quarrel. Enlist the help of Draco, and you will receive top marks. That is all." With a wave of his hand, he dismissed her. She wanted to bounce on her heels as she turned toward the door, but she could not let it show. She scowled as she exited, even gave an exaggerated eye roll as an added touch, with Harry and Ron by her side and nobody any the wiser of her new alliance with Draco Malfoy.

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> I told you I wouldn't abandon you. Now, before you jump down my throat, just remember this: 12-hour night shift cardiac ICU nurse who is also full time student and still manages to sleep, eat, and have a social life. Though this story gives me great happiness, it gets shoved to the side sometimes. But like I have promised before and will probably keep promising until this story is complete, I will not abandon you. So, that being said... follow, favorite, and review!


	14. Chapter 14

**Author's Note:** Hey y'all! Here is chapter 14! I like this one and I hope you do too.

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><p><strong>14.<strong>

Hermione stalked out of the common with her bag thrown over her shoulder and a brooding scowl on her face as she passed Ron and Harry entering the portrait hole.

"Are you seriously going to work on your spell with that slug?" Ron asked, his face turning an interesting shade of pink.

Hermione scoffed. "Of course not. I know that I can fulfill this assignment fine on my own. I certainly don't want him to claim any of the credit for my hard-earned work. He would probably just sit on his ass the whole time and insult me. So no."

"Then where are you going?" Harry asked as she continued out of the portrait hole.

"The library. You honestly think I would be able to concentrate on creating my own defensive spell amongst all of _this_?" She gestured to the activity that was going on in the common room. It was much busier than usual, probably because the first quidditch match of the season, Gryffindor versus Slytherin, was going to take place in a matter of hours.

Harry sighed. "Okay, well don't be late to the game! You will want to get a good seat for the lashing we will be giving the Slytherins!" Hermione flashed a small wave as she turned her back to them and trotted out of the Common Room.

She descended the staircases out of Gryffindor Tower, but did not head toward the library. She had lied to her two best friends, something that she was not accustomed to doing, although lately it had seemed that since that discussion with Draco in the library, lying was all she had been doing. She did not care though, because she figured it was for a good cause. She saw the tapestry on the seventh floor corridor wall flap slightly as she turned the corner heading toward the empty wall that hid the Room of Requirement behind it. She was expecting Draco, but she stiffened when she saw him, followed by Blaise and Goyle. Her palms began to sweat. This was not the plan. This was nowhere near the plan. She tried to scan Draco's face as they strolled toward her for some indication of what was going on in his mind, but she saw nothing. She continued past the tapestry, giving the bare wall no inclincation, and hugged the edge of the corridor as the boys passed by her. Maybe Draco tried to leave alone, but his friends were too bored to sit in the dungeons by themselves, without their leader, without any entertainment. They might as well have been naked without Draco. She was only three yards past them when she heard one of the boys laugh, and knew that something was wrong. She tucked her hand in her jacket pocket and gripped her wand.

"Hey, Granger!" She heard Draco say over his friends' laughter. She stopped but did not turn around.

"Can I help you, Malfoy?" She said, sounding irritated. She had no idea what to expect.

"Slytherin is going to crush your stupid little house this afternoon. Especially since that oaf Weasley is on the team." Hermione gripped her wand tighter. Just because they had come to a truce did not mean Draco was not still going to act like a total ass, especially when it came to her friends. "They'll probably call the game early before the snitch is even caught! Weasley couldn't catch a goal if his—" A stream of yellow light erupted from Hermione's wand and blasted Draco square in the chest which threw him right off his feet and sent him smashing into the wall that hid the Room of Requirement.

"I am so tired of your voice, Malfoy. It's like… I hear it so much that now it's just like a loud screeching it my ears. It's rather bothersome, actually," she said. Draco put a hand on the back of his head. She wondered how badly she had hurt him. For some reason, she did not care as much as she probably should have. She shot a look at the other two boys, her wand still gripped tightly, buzzing with energy. She knew they weren't going to dare reach for their own wands. She turned on her heel and continued to walk down the corridor, then stopped when she turned the corner.

"Go on, you two. I'll meet you down in the Great Hall later. Just go," Draco said. She peaked around and saw him struggling to stand as the two turned their backs and headed out of sight. Once they were gone, she ran over to him, now starting to feel bad for slamming him against the stone wall. She attempted to loop an arm under his to help him stand, but he pushed her away. She drew back quickly.

"Just trying to help you," she said sharply.

"I think you've bloody helped enough, Granger. Why did you have to throw me against the wall? Will you fucking stand still!" He said as he reach out his arm, trying to steady himself.

"I am standing still," she said as she rolled her eyes and grabbed him so he would not fall over. "If you hadn't brought those two up here with you then I wouldn't have had to curse you."

"You didn't have to curse me in the first place!" The large wooden door appeared in front of them and they clumsily fell inside, Draco still struggling to regain his footing.

"Oh, I didn't? So according to you, I was just supposed to stand there and take your insults and not do anything about it?" Hermione said as she slammed the heavy door closed.

"I never insulted you, Granger."

"You might as well have."

"Well, in case you have forgotten, to everybody else in the world, I am still the same Draco Malfoy. I have to be a prick in order to not let anybody know that I am betraying my entire family and putting my head on the bloody chopping block and turning my back on my values."

Hermione scoffed. "Right, values."

Draco was now very irritated, and his head still hurt like mad and he could barely see straight. He wondered if the effects were from hitting his head or if they were from the curse.

"What was that spell you knocked me on my ass with? I feel like I got hit by a triple-decker bus." He said as he made his way to the cozy arm chair that was nestled beside a hearth at the far end of the room.

"It's called _Labes iactum_. It throws you and then gives you increased pressure in your head that gives you a massive headache, blurred vision, bad coordination. It should subside in less than an hour. I made it up." She said, taking a seat across from him. He tried to blink away the double vision, but was unsuccessful.

"If your assignment is to make up a defensive spell, then why not just use that one and save yourself some time?" He asked. Hermione just shook her head.

"Snape wants to see something impressive. Plus, if we could come up with a joint spell, it would be twice as powerful, and twice as impressive."

"And you'll get twice the points?" he said, smiling. Hermione returned his smile and let out a small giggle. She never in a million years thought that she would ever be sitting across from Draco Malfoy giggling. "So," he continued, "what did you have in mind?"

* * *

><p>Draco trotted down to the Quidditch pitch, trying to keep his usual bored scowl on his face. He had to consciously hide this odd sense of refreshment and fulfillment that he felt. The time he had spent with Hermione felt oddly freeing, regardless that he was sneaking behind everyone's back and going against what he had always believed. It felt much better this way, letting her in instead of wasting all the energy trying to hate her. He now realized why it was so taxing always being on her case. She was very difficult to hate, and he was relieved that that particular part of his life was over. Or somewhat over. He took a seat beside Blaise, who rubbed his bare hands together as the chilled air blew across his face. Draco laughed under his breath that he had forgotten his gloves on one of the coldest days in November.<p>

Across the pitch, Draco scanned the box that was draped in red and gold and immediately saw the small figure that was really only discernable as a mane of bushy hair flattened under a red hat. He noticed that there was someone beside her, looking uncomfortably close to her as she raised her shoulder and attempted to scoot away from him. He draped an arm around her and she tried pushing him away. He looked massive compared to her tiny frame and he strong-armed her closer to him. Without even realizing it, Draco yanked his wand from his cloak and discretely pointed it across the field. He muttered an incantation and immediately noticed the boy choke on his words as his face and tongue swelled. Hermione looked shocked as she watched his face turn plumper and plumper and his words get caught in his mouth. She started to giggle as the boy ran out of the box to hide his embarrassment. She looked around for a moment to see where the spell had come from, then noticed, from the box across the pitch, that Draco Malfoy was putting away his wand and the quaffle was released.

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><p>Immediately after the game, the Slytherin common room was packed with brooding students after a brutal loss to Gryffindor. One thing Draco could always count on was his house celebrating a loss the same way they celebrated a win: by passing around butterbeers and firewhisky by the fire and getting way too rambunctious for his liking. He headed up to the dormitory where he was alone. He threw open his trunk to return his Slytherin green and silver scarf and game-day apparel when he noticed something sitting on his bed. He looked around cautiously before reaching for it, making sure he was indeed alone. He felt that this was something that others should not see. He caught a glimpse of the handwriting and noticed it to be the fancy, intricate swirls of his mother's. She sent it today, at this time, because she knew nobody would be around. Nobody but him. His heart raced as he picked it up and plucked the note from beneath the loosely tied string.<p>

_Draco,_

_I know this is difficult for you. This is for when you want it all to end. To be free. Do not touch it until you are truly ready. I love you._

_-Mom_

Draco placed the package on the bed and carefully began to peel back the paper wrappings that concealed it, making sure he did not touch it. He saw that what was inside was actually very small, much smaller than the size of the parcel made it seem. It was a woman's ring, shiny polished silver with a diamond-encrusted band and a large marquis emerald that glinted in the sun, sending bursts of light all around the room. It was beautiful. As he admired it, he recognized exactly what it was, and placed it back on the bed and carefully rewrapped it. It was eerily similar to the necklace that Draco had seen in Borgin and Burke's earlier that year. This ring was cursed. His mother had sent him a Death Amulet.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>So? Did you like it? So, a couple of things. In case you failed to notice, that was Cormac McLaggen that Draco cursed from across the field. Surely you knew that though. Secondly, the necklace that was referred to that Draco had seen in Borgin in Burke's is that same cursed opal necklace that comes to Katie Bell's possession in the Three Broomsticks. Just some little things that I hope you already got. Okay! Sorry it took so long, but like I have been saying over and over and over again, I will not abandon you. I just have to get all my ducks in a row before I can have fun writing. So, until the next chapter, please follow, favorite and review!


	15. Chapter 15

**Author's Note: **Here it is! Are you excited? Because I am! This is a juicy one, so enjoy!

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><p><strong>15.<strong>

Draco's hands shook as he shoved the emerald ring toward the bottom of his trunk, beneath clothes and loose papers and forgotten items that he had not even bothered to unpack. He did not want to look at it. He could not look at it. It only made the possibility of his death surface to the front of his mind and it terrified him. He stuffed his hands in his pockets in an attempt to keep them from shaking violently and he headed out of the dormitory and down the stairs. He wiped his brow as he crept past the rambunctious crowd that was gathered in the Common Room. His head was held low as he ducked past Goyle and Blaise and dipped out from behind the statue that hid the entrance.

The air of the dungeons nearly gagged him. The dry and musty air smothered him and made him even more aware than ever that he was underground, and the thought of death emerged once more as he imagined himself buried in a shallow, unmarked grave. He dug a finger underneath the color of his shirt, loosening it so he felt less like he was suffocating. He darted for the stairs, his vision beginning to spot as the claustrophobia began to set in. His calves burned with every step he took as he climbed, still struggling for air, as if a pair of invisible, dreadful hands hooked their long, bony fingers around his neck and threatened to collapse his wind pipe. The staircase let out right outside the atrium and Draco fell to his knees and gasped, then felt his stomach wretch as he heaved on his hands and knees. Nothing came out, though. Nothing ever did.

The cool November mist brushed across his hot skin as he stumbled forward, trying to regain his stance. His legs shook as he walked toward a stone bench that was nestled against the wall of the courtyard, hidden in the shadow of a crooked dogwood. He sat there for a moment, allowing the chilly air to cool him, calm him. He wished the cold breeze would just blow him away with it, like the seeds of a dandelion, carried away to some unknown place. Never seen again. He longed for it as he closed his eyes and tilted his head back to rest against the cold stone of the castle wall. He started to shiver and considered going inside when he heard very light footsteps and a small sniffle. He stayed planted to his seat in the shadow-cover as the footsteps got closer to the courtyard entrance on his left. From the stone archway emerged a petite silhouette that he recognized immediately. She wiped her eyes and made another small sniffing sound as she sat on a bench across the yard, her back to him and strands of tiny ringlets falling out of her bushy ponytail and resting on the nape of her neck.

He watched her for what seemed like an hour, memorizing the patterns of her movements. She held her head down a bit, wiped her eyes with her right hand, a piece of hair fell into her face, she brushed it away with her left, then sniffed away a tear, hoping the tears would stop coming, but they did not. He wanted to know what was wrong with her. Lately, it seemed like she had hot tears in her eyes frequently, angry tears, but he never saw them boil over her lashes as he said some rude remark toward her. But he did not expect that these were those same tears. He wanted to know, but instead he continued to sit in the shade of the dogwood and watch her. Hermione reached slowly for her wand out of her pocket and started turning it around smoothly in her fingers, tracing the grains of the wood with her fingertips. He heard her mutter something wetly and then half a dozen tiny birds emerged from the tip of her wand. They resembled bluebirds and sang a melodic, high-pitched tune which cut through the chilly air. He felt a small smile begin to creep across his face when he heard an annoying, ear-splitting giggle coming from behind the wall where Hermione had come from before.

Ronald Weasley and Lavender Brown, about whom Draco knew nothing except that familiar and cringe-worthy giggle that he so often heard during classes with the Gryffindors, appeared from the stone archway. Hermione snapped her head in their direction, and the girlish giggling ceased.

"Come on, Won-Won," she said in her baby voice as she pulled him in the opposite direction. "This spot is occupied." Ron looked at Hermione for a moment as she glared in his direction. Draco could still see a glint of light shimmering from a tear that rested on her porcelain cheek.

"Nice birds," he said, almost genuinely. Hermione stood up, her wand clenched in her fist.

"Oppugno," she said sternly, and the singing bluebirds aligned in formation and torpedoed through the air, right at Ron and Lavender. The two went off in a frenzied panic and Draco almost smiled, but then he saw Hermione slump back down on the bench and rest her face in her hands as she carelessly dropped her wand on the ground, beginning to sob. She looked defeated. His body began to move by no device of his own. He was not telling his legs to start working, but they did. He had no intention of going over to her, and he was silently begging his body to stop and sit back down where nobody could see him, but he was halfway over to her. A leaf crunched under his foot, and Hermione stiffened, but did not look up. Draco stood behind her, watching her back move up and down with each shallow breath as her ponytail dropped to the side, exposing the peach fuzz on her neck. He got the urge to run his fingertip over the soft-looking skin, but instead he just stood there, motionless.

"How long have you been out here?" she asked quietly, still not lifting her face from her palms. Draco did not say a word. He was all of a sudden very aware of his heart thumping wildly against his chest. He wondered if she could hear it. He felt like he could probably hear hers if the sound of his weren't echoing in his ears. She finally lifted her head, but did not turn to look at him. She slid over to her right, giving him plenty of room to take a seat next to her. He sat down on the very edge of the bench, leaving more than a foot of space between their shoulders.

"A while," he said finally, answering her question that it seemed like she had asked hours ago. She swept another tear from her cheek and turned her head away from him, as if she were trying to hide the fact that she were crying at all. Though she hid her face, he could still see the fair hairs on her cheek stand erect as a cool breeze picked up around them. "So," Draco said casually. "Weasley?" Hermione sniffed again, her back perfectly straight and her head still turned away from him. She did not reply, and the silence that was growing between them was starting to make him uncomfortable. He longed for his place back against the wall in the shadows. He considered standing up and walking away when she took in a sharp breath.

"I'm just dumb, I guess," she mumbled. Draco raised his eyebrows in disbelief. Did those words really just come out of her mouth? The same mouth that always spouted out the cleverest things and held the sharpest tongue?

"Dumb?" He questioned loudly. "You have plenty of undesirable traits, Granger, but 'dumb' is not one of them."

"I guess 'pretty' isn't either." She rested her chin on her knuckles as Draco gawked at her, silent. He had not always seen it, or even wanted to acknowledge it most of the time, but he knew from that night before the Christmas holidays when they were fourteen years old that she was the most beautiful creature he had ever laid his eyes on, and this was the very first time he was willing to admit it to himself as the truth. She was, and always had been, in every single way possible, absolutely beautiful. She wiped another tear away as his hand slipped into hers.

"That isn't true," he said, somewhat shakily. The words escaped his mouth without even being filtered by his brain first, but he did not care. He did not want those words back. He wanted her to hear them, not for himself, but for her own sake. She looked at their cupped hands with a mystified look on her face, like she were trying to figure out a riddle in her head.

"It's not?" she said quietly, carefully, as if she were expecting to be the punchline of some joke of his. He sensed the distrust in her voice and his gut wrenched. He wanted her to trust him. For some unknown reason, he needed Hermione Granger to trust him, but he knew why it was so difficult.

"No," he whispered, and began to lace his fingers with hers. He watched her as she continued to study their clasped hands as they weaved together on her lap. Draco reached up and brushed her ponytail away from her shoulder, exposing the dimple in her neck and she shivered. Another tear fell from her eyelashes, but she did not make an attempt to wipe it away. Instead, she allowed the breeze to carry it along her skin and down the line of her jaw. She squeezed Draco's hand slightly.

"I came out here to be alone, you know," she said softly.

"Me too," he replied.

She shifted her body toward him just slightly. "But I don't think I really wanted to be alone."

Draco looked at her and she was finally looking at him, her dark green eyes reflecting the grey clouds that covered the sky and hid the moon's light from them as the courtyard was illuminated by a few dimly-lit lanterns. Her eyelashes were moist and her nose and cheeks were pink from the chilled November breezes. He reached up and brushed away a strand of hair that stuck to her skin from her dried tears. "Neither did I."

Once again, his body was moving without his consent closer to her, but she did not move away from him as he may have anticipated. He lifted his hand away from hers and brushed his knuckles mildly across her cheek as the space between them dwindled and their faces were so close he could feel her breath against his as it cut through the chill and rested on his skin. He waited for a moment to see if she would pull away from him, but she did not. He leaned into her, brushing his lips gently against hers slowly, being so careful, as if she would crumble or melt away from him at the slightest touch. Her lips moved along with his, still so gently, barely even touching as he kissed her, not even aware of the cold that seemed to begin to chill him to the bone. He wanted to close every single space between them now, to press his mouth into hers and keep her here with him through the night, but as quickly as it had happened, she tore away from him and he was snapped back to the cold reality.

She stood up and cleared her throat, wiping away the kiss that Draco had left of her lips. She blushed as she snatched her wand up from the ground and straightened out her jacket.

"That did not happen," she said curtly. Draco grabbed her hand as she attempted to bolt.

"Yes, it did, Hermione."

Her eyes widened as she looked at him with a blank stare on her face and her wand still gripped tightly in her hand.

"It's Granger," she snapped and yanked her hand from his as she darted into the castle, hoping to put as much distance between her and Draco as possible and he was left realizing just how cold it really was out in that abandoned courtyard.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>So? Did you like it? Me too! I'm doing my best to write as often as I can, so just be patient with me! You guys are the best and I love all my readers to the moon and back. Keep an eye out for the next chapter and remember to follow, favorite, and REVIEW!


	16. Chapter 16

**Author's Note: **Here's the next one! And I put a lot of information in this one, so it is a bit longer than the rest. I'm just so eager to get to the really good parts! Okay, well enjoy!

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><p><strong>16.<strong>

Draco sat there in the cold air, staring blankly ahead and trying to wrap his head around what had just happened a moment ago. It had all happened so quickly that his mind barely had time to catch up. He considered going after Hermione, to talk to her, understand her wild emotions, but just like before, his body had a mind of its own, and it felt as heavy as a rock and would not budge off of the bench to pursue her. He had just kissed Hermione Granger and she ran away from him. He tried to gather his thoughts, wrangle them up so he could analyze them. He had kissed her, and she did run away. But she kissed him back! He specifically remembered that, because his stomach jumped into his throat and he relaxed into her when she did it, so she didn't run off because she hated him still. Or was she so overcome with emotions that her girlish brain was just confused and vulnerable? Vulnerable. Girls do strange things when they are feeling 'vulnerable.' Draco shook his head and stood up. He recalled an instance when Pansy was feeling vulnerable because her boyfriend, if you would even call it that, broke up with her. She was really only dating him because she wanted to make Draco jealous. The guy was a couple years old and dumb as a sack of rocks. But when he broke it off, she practically jumped on Draco, trying to stick her tongue down his throat as he was walking through the Common Room. Then she slapped him in the face the following day for taking advantage of her 'vulnerability.'

"What a load of troll shit," he said under his breath as he headed back down the stairs that led toward the dungeons. The post-game party had completely dispersed by the time he made it back to the Common Room, and the fireplace was barely flickering with barely-lit embers. He sunk down in one of the green velvet couches and looked up at the ceiling. Because the dungeons had no windows, some clever Slytherin student many years back bewitched the ceiling to look like the night sky. It was by no means even close to the caliber of the ceiling of the Great Hall, but it was still recognizable with familiar constellations and the moon that slid across as the night drew on. He stared at it for what seemed like hours, and the moon was almost above his head when his heavy eyes finally shut and he fell asleep with the lips of Hermione Granger in the front of his mind.

Hermione hadn't spoken to him in weeks, and there was never a chance for him to get her alone to talk to her. She was constantly by Harry Potter's side. She even dragged him along with her on her trips to the library. He wondered if she was doing it to intentionally avoid having to make contact with him. Even in Defense Against the Dark Arts, none of the lessons required a partner, so even a forced mingling did not happen. Nothing could get her to even glance in his direction, even when he insulted Potter or sent a charmed paper airplane soaring toward her head. The most he got was a faint eye roll. Was she even on his side anymore? He did not know.

Ordinarily, he would give no thought to Hermione. She was only good for the butt of a good joke some of the time, but now it was different. He had chosen to alienate himself from the world he knew and entrusted his treason in her. He wished that all she was to him was a link to the other side, someone to guide him back to his mother and away from the dark side, but she had become more than that. She took the darkest part of himself away from him and he had not even realized she had done it until he found himself in the middle of kissing her! He might have wished he had not kissed her that night, just so she wouldn't be shunning him out of her life now, but he didn't. He never would. He would do it a hundred times over if he could. It was all he could think about, and it was getting harder and harder to keep his distance from her like this.

It was the night before the Christmas holidays, and he desperately wanted Hermione to speak to him again. Honestly, he was terrified, for both himself and for her. For himself because he had to face his father for the first time since his mother vanished and since he secretly switched sides, and for her because every day she spent outside of the castle was a day that she could be killed solely for being a muggle-born, and that horrified him more than anything. As far as he was concerned, she was his now.

He traipsed quietly down the sixth floor corridor, large baubles and glass orbs of red, gold and silver hanging from the ceiling as he approached Professor Slughorn's office, where the Slug Club Christmas Party was being held. A couple, who appeared to be seventh-years, exited the crowded room, and Draco slunk in sneakily behind them before the door closed. The room was filled with people, and music and loud conversation flooded his ears. People were walking around with trays of various goodies and drinks. He snatched a sausage ball off of Neville Longbottom's tray, then stole around the room, nobody noticing him at all. He wove in and out of small groups of people, taking a butterbeer or a sausage ball here and there, and on the look-out for Hermione. He scanned the room, and ducked behind a rather broad-shouldered server when he saw Snape strolling around, appearing to tail Harry Potter. That's when he heard a tiny squeal. He turned around and saw two figures, one petite and the other large and broad, standing behind a sheer, gold curtain. He recognized the smaller of the two.

"Let me go, Cormac," she said in a hushed voice, as if she did not want anybody to overhear.

"You asked me to this thing, remember?" He said as he yanked her toward him.

"Yes, as friends!"

"Oh, please, Hermione, I think we both know that we are a little bit more than just 'friends.'"

"Cormac, stop!" Hermione squealed again. Draco ripped back the curtain and saw Cormac McLaggen had Hermione's arms in his grasp and had his mouth dangerously close to her neck as she attempted to push him away with her shoulder. His blood boiled and his face turned hot as Draco charged at him and tackled him to the ground. Hermione jumped back startled and wiped the slobber off of her jaw that had come from Cormac's attempt at necking her. Draco punched him in the nose, and then received a fist on the side of his head near his eye, then another one right in his ear. His ear was ringing and he felt blood drip from it, but he kept swinging until he was ripped off of him, blood covering his knuckles.

"Merlin's beard!" Exclaimed Slughorn as he attempted to lift McLaggen off of the ground, but couldn't even budge him due to his size. Harry and another Ravenclaw boy picked him up and helped him regain his footing. Snape had Draco in a chokehold as all the party guests gaped at him.

"Bloody let me go!" Draco squeaked as Snape's hold was choking him.

"Professor!" Slughorn said in an angry and shaken voice, "will you kindly escort this miscreant out of my office?" Snape just nodded and pulled Draco out of the room by his collar. Before the door shut, he caught a quick glimpse of Hermione, her eyes worried and wearing a dazzling pink dress.

"Do you bloody mind telling me what in the hell you are doing?" Snape hissed as they were out of earshot of the party, still gripping Draco's shirt collar tightly. Draco just stared him in the face, clenching his teeth, still hot about what he had just witnessed that sent his blood boiling over. "What were you thinking? I told you to lay low, don't call attention to yourself, and then you crash Slughorn's Christmas party and cause an uproar, and for what?"

"I needed to talk to somebody," Draco said, looking down that hall at the shut door that held the party and Hermione.

"To whom?"

Draco hesitated. "I needed to talk to Blaise."

"So you needed to speak to your friend and you ended up beating the bloody hell out of McLaggen? Makes perfect sense. I applaud you." Draco rolled his eyes. "You are damn lucky that McLaggen is a pure-blood or you would be stripped of your hide! Need I remind you that if you are expelled from Hogwarts that you and your entire family will be killed?"

"Well," Draco said flatly, "not my entire family." Snape's enraged face melted into a cold stare as Draco stared right back. As far as he was concerned, Snape knew nothing about his mother still being alive. Without another word, Snape released him, and turned on a dime and vanished down the hall.

* * *

><p>Without managing to speak to Hermione, Draco met his father at the train station and they apparated to the Manor without saying a single word to each other. The house was the same as it was before he left for school. The furniture was all in its designated spaces, the family portrait hung above the fireplace, the footsteps echoed off of the walls the same way. There was no Christmas tree, though, and he smell of the air was different. The scent of his mother's perfume no longer wafted among the rooms with a floral breeze. It just smelled like lemon furniture polish and old wood. His father walked past the kitchen while Draco headed upstairs to his room. He passed his parents' room as he walked down the hall and made an effort not to look inside.<p>

He stayed shut in his bedroom most of the holiday. There was no proper Christmas this year in Malfoy Manor. His father mostly stayed shut up in his bedroom and Draco did the same, only venturing out to scavenge the kitchen for some sustenance. He never unpacked his trunk, and it sit at the end of his bed as this was now the last day of the holiday and he would be returning to school. He lay on his bed, facing the wall and staring at a small chip in the paint, picking at it with his eyes, when he heard the door creak open and a hissing sound emerge in his room.

"Oh, Draco," he heard a voice say. A voice that sent chills up his spine and made him want to curl up into a tiny ball.

"Hello, Aunt Bella," he said, trying to sound sleepy as if he had just woken from a nap. He stood up and she embraced him, a little tighter than was really necessary, and dug her fingernails into his back. This was not loving, it was meant to intimidate.

"How are your studies coming along, dear?" She asked, and by 'studies' she meant 'plotting to kill Dumbledore.'

"Just fine," he said. She smiled widely, letting her yellow smile show brightly as her lips thinned across her dead teeth.

"Good boy. Come, Draco. Your father would like a word with you." She led him out of his bedroom and he expected to go down the stairs, but instead she opened the door to his parents' bedroom and his father was standing beside the bed with a box in his hands.

"Draco," his father said blandly.

"Father," Draco replied. Lucius Malfoy stared blankly at Draco, and turned the box upside down, letting hundreds of letters fall all over the floor.

"Do you know about these, Draco?" He asked. Bellatrix shoved him forward. Draco looked over the enormous pile of letters on the ground. "Answer me!"

"No! I don't know what they are!"

Bellatrix hissed in his ear. "They are letters addressed to your mother."

"From whom?"

"From your aunt," Lucius said, still not breaking his stony expression. Draco turned his head to look at Bellatrix.

"Not me, idiot! Andromeda!" She shouted in his face.

"Why would Andromeda be writing letters to her?" Lucius just looked at Draco. Draco's hands started sweating profusely, but he resisted the urge to wipe them on his pants. He couldn't let it show that he knew something. "She wouldn't actually be in correspondence with that blood-traitor."

"Wouldn't she?" Lucius said, accusingly.

"No! Andromeda was obviously just trying to get her switch sides! And she would never do that!" Draco raised his voice, and a vein bulged in his forehead as his face turned red. He needed to look angry. He needed to make it convincing that he was upset that they would dare to accuse his mother of switching sides.

"We have a theory, Draco." Draco raised his eyebrows.

"Oh, a _theory_? Please, do go on! Tell me all about how my mother is actually still alive and wasn't violently attacked and abducted right out of her own house!"

"That is exactly what we think." Draco huffed in disapproval, then felt a wand bury itself in his neck.

"And we think you know something about it," Bellatrix whispered in his ear.

"And why would you think that?" He said calmly as he stiffened under his aunt's wand.

"Because you are a coward. And obviously so is your mother. And cowards stick together. So, tell us, Draco. Where is your mother?" Draco clenched his teeth and felt his entire body become hot, like someone had just dumped a pot of steaming water on him. Without even being able to think, he turned on a dime and snatched her wand out of her hand and pointed it at her in ferocity, his eyes glowing red and his teeth bared like a rabid animal. Bellatrix threw her arms straight out in front of her and whimpered like a kicked dog at the sight of her wand now being used against her. Draco scoffed at the sight of his trembling aunt.

"I'm the coward?" he said sharply, and threw the wand behind him as he exited the bedroom.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Uh oh, shit's getting real now! So, wow, two chapters in one day! Give me a high-five! Okay, well I hope you liked it, and I do apologize for leaving it one SUCH a suspenseful note, but, hey, we can't always get what we want. So, until the next chapter, remember to follow, favorite, and review!


	17. Chapter 17

**Author's Note:** Here's the next chapter!

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><p><strong>17.<strong>

As Draco boarded the train, he headed straight for the very back toward the prefect's car, almost at a sprint. He knew that Hermione would be sitting there at attention, waiting to man her post, or at least, he hoped she would. Over the holidays, Draco received not even a scrap of news of what was happening outside in the world, and as he was shut up in his bedroom, all he could worry about was Hermione, and praying that her face would not be on the front page of the Daily Prophet after being attacked or mysteriously disappearing. When he boarded the platform, he caught a glimpse of the main headline: 'MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCES CONTINUE.' He felt like he wanted to vomit. He slid the glass door open and there she was, her face buried in a newspaper, not even aware that he had just entered. Pansy Parkinson was also present, but, thankfully, she exited as he opened the door, and passed him with an aggressive bump on the shoulder and an eye roll. Her moods changed like the seasons. Now it was just him and her, and she did not bother to look up from what she was reading.

Draco sat down across from her, his back straight, palms resting on his knees, every hair in place on top of his head, and just looked straight at her, hoping if he stared long enough, the uncomfortable feeling of being watched would cause her to look up. Quicker than he anticipated, she groaned and lifted her head, and he immediately noticed the look of sleeplessness that shadowed her face and left circles under her eyes and gave her a lackluster gaze.

"You look awful," he said, not even realizing what he had said might have come off as somewhat harsh. Hermione just shook her head.

"Yeah, well, I feel pretty awful," she said in a soft voice. Though her appearance was somewhat haggard, her voice still sounded angelic to Draco's ears.

"I am guessing your holiday wasn't very restful," he said. Hermione looked at him, her eyes like piercing daggers and her face suddenly turning hard as stone.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" She said, her voice deepening, almost like she was being possessed. Draco looked at her like a deer in the headlights. He had no idea that what he had just said could have made her this angry with him.

"I was just saying that you look exhausted! Should it have meant something?" He said, throwing his hands up in surrender. Hermione squinted her eyes at him, examining his features for a sign of deceit.

"You really don't know what happened?" Draco shook his head.

"No, I don't. Tell me what happened."

"Your aunt. She attacked the Weasley's and set the Burrow on fire." Draco stood up and sat down beside her as she shook her head. "I should have been there. Maybe I could have stopped her." Draco's eyes widened.

"No," he said firmly. "You could not have stopped her. She would have killed you right where you stood!"

"I can protect myself, Malfoy," she said with a sneer. "Just like I could've protected myself against Cormac." Draco sighed. He knew better than to start an argument such as this with a girl, especially one as strong-headed as Hermione.

"I know you can. I know. I am just glad you weren't there." Hermione let out a sigh.

"I did not get much sleep the whole break. I had my wand in my hand as I lay in my bed, listening as the house creaked and settled, wondering which time it wouldn't be the house, but it would be a Death Eater coming to kill me and my parents. Then they go and attack my best friend and I was powerless to do anything because I wasn't there. But you're right. They would have killed me for sure if I was there and they had known it." She placed her face in her hands and let out a deep breath. "I just don't know how much longer I can survive this." Though comforting someone was a very new and still foreign social action for him, Draco cautiously put a hand on her shoulder, scared that she would bolt from him like she did that night when he attempted to show her affection. But she did not. She leaned into him. "And I truly am sorry."

"Sorry for what? I don't think you have anything to be sorry for." Hermione shook her head as her cheeks turned a light shade of pink.

"No, I do. That night, when I ran away.—" she hesitated, but Draco remained silent. Then she whispered something that he could barely hear.

"Say that again?" he said.

"That was my first kiss!" she said quietly. Draco just raised his eyebrows and could not help but let out a small smile. "I had often thought about it, what it would be like. But it was always with Ron, and I had this idea in my head of what it would be like, how I would feel."

"And?"

"And it was nothing like it." Draco looked disappointed, then Hermione laughed lightly and put her hand on his. "No! I mean in a good way! It felt much different than I thought it would, but probably because it was real and it was something that I did not know I needed. And that's why it scared me a little. All this time my head has been filled with all these things about the war and about surviving and about how I am going to fight the next fight, and I felt like keeping all of that at the front of my mind would keep me prepared for what could happen. Then that night, I felt it start to slip away from me and, in that moment, I did not want it back. I was perfectly happy with just being there with my head empty of all the seriousness and that was not okay. I am being hunted. I can't afford to let myself think of anything else." Draco could not find any words. She was right. She was being hunted and he had no idea what that felt like. Nobody knew that he switched sides. It was his own secret, but it was no secret that Hermione Granger was a muggle-born, and the fact that she was absolutely brilliant only made the bounty on her head that much more valuable. Draco looked behind him at the sliding glass door, making sure nobody was watching, and he laced his fingers in hers.

"We are in this fight together now," he said softly. "I understand if you want to keep your mind on the situation at hand, and I will respect that. But also know that what I said that night, and what I did, that was all true." Hermione smiled. "But Cormac McLaggen, I just really wanted to hit him, whether you could have protected yourself or not." The worn expression on Hermione's face had now softened, and some color returned to her face as she laughed.

"What were you doing at Slughorn's Christmas party anyway?" she asked. Draco reached his coat pocket in pulled out a small box that was wrapped in gold papyrus paper with a silver ribbon around it.

"I just wanted to give you this. It wasn't meant to be a Christmas present. It just so happened to be that I was going to give it to you and it was almost Christmas." He handed the box to her and she shyly untied the ribbon and carefully removed the wrapping. Inside was a long gold chain with a feather medallion dangling at the end like a pendulum. She gasped and attempted to shove it back towards him. "Come on, Hermione, it's not like I just bought you jewelry. I have one, too," he said, and he pulled a long chain out from beneath his shirt, but dangling from the end of his was just a plain circle. He took it in his palm, and squeezed it for a few moments. He stuffed his gold chain back into his shirt and exited the car as a pair of Ravenclaws now entered. Hermione felt that necklace become warm in her grasp. On the back side of the feather was inscribed one word: _Impressed? _Draco had given her a necklace that was enchanted with the Protean charm, but she could not for the life of her understand why.

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><p>They sat in the Room of Requirement, cross-legged on the floor, books scattered all around them, hoping to spark inspiration for the assignment that Snape had given Hermione months ago. There were only four months left of the term and they had not made any progress on the spell. Hermione was simply too picky. Draco was perfectly fine with just coming up with something worth the credit, but Hermione wanted functionality, something she could use outside of the classroom, something that could incapacitate an attacker and be effective out on the battlefield. However, in order to be efficient, she would have to be fighting alongside Draco, since they were formulating a joint spell, and that was more unlikely than her having a sit-down dinner and a glass of champagne with Voldemort himself. She pursed her lips as she poured over pages describing other joint curses, trying to give herself and original idea when Draco took a short breath in.<p>

"Hermione," he said. Her stomach fluttered slightly as she blushed. She still was not used to him calling her by her first name. He sat closely to her, their knees touching, and every now and then, his pinky would brush her leg lightly, and she felt like her throat was closing. They had not kissed since that November night in the atrium, but she practically jumped every time he touched her, whether it was intentional or accidental.

"Yes, _Draco_?" she replied. She was not used to using his first name either. He cleared his throat, as if he were hesitant to ask her what was on his mind."

"Is it possible to cast a non-verbal spell, but say the incantation of a different spell?" Hermione cocked her head to the side, trying to visualize what he meant.

"Give me an example."

"Say you wanted to cast a spell, say Stupefy, but wanted them to think you were casting another spell, like Expelliarmus. Could you cast Stupefy non-verbally while actually saying 'Expelliarmus?'" Hermione had never thought about it. She figured that if you did not want the person you were dueling with to know what spell you were about to cast, that casting it non-verbally would be enough to keep them from knowing what you were planning to do. She never gave a thought to this new offensive technique Draco proposed. If you said one thing, and your opponent then anticipated how to block it, then came at them with something completely different, it could give you a whole different edge. Hermione shrugged.

"It is an interesting concept," she said. Draco raised his eyebrows. He fully expected Hermione to say that it was impossible. "I may have even read about it briefly as I was researching some other dueling strategy. I think it is called Overlapping. I am sure it would only be moderately difficult, with immense concentration and control, if one were to use certain rudimentary spells. I would say that it would be near impossible to Overlap spells that were of a higher caliber."

"Like the Killing Curse," Draco muttered. Hermione pretended not to hear him, and stuck her nose back into her book.

"Let's try to stay on task. I may have an idea for our joint spell." Draco hummed in interest. "I am considering a crippling trifecta. A spell that causes blindness, deafness and an excruciating burning sensation over the entire torso that is disorienting in itself."

"Blimey, Granger. I thought you were sweet."

"I am just trying to be thorough."

"Yeah," Draco scoffed. "Thoroughly terrifying." Hermione picked up her wand and gripped it tightly, still sitting straight-backed on the floor.

"Can I make you blind?" She said, as she pointed the wand an inch from his face. Draco raised his eyebrows in disbelief? "Oh come on! It's for a good cause! And I promise it won't hurt." After a few moments of wishing she had not thought of using him as her guinea pig, he nodded reluctantly, and tried not to wince as a bright light flashed in his face, and then there was total darkness. "Can you see?" Draco blinked his eyes a few times, but there was no difference in the darkness, whether his eyes were open or closed. He shook his head, and just as he was about to ask her for the counter-curse to lift the blindness, he faintly smelled a whiff of strawberries, and a pair of soft, thin lips brushed against his tenderly, and she exhaled against his mouth as she finally kissed him.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Hope you liked it! Please follow, favorite, and REVIEW!


	18. Chapter 18

**Author's Note:** We are starting to get to the thick of it, here! Enjoy the next chapter!

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><p><strong>18.<strong>

Draco lay in his bed, wide awake as he listened to the rumbles of the other boys' snores as they slept in their beds. He had been very patient with Hermione since the start of the new term, making sure he gave her plenty of space for all of the thoughts that clouded her head, yet still hoping that once in a while he was one of those thoughts. It was not until this night that she finally let him in.

He sat there cross-legged on the stone floor across from her, able to see nothing but stark darkness as she cloaked his vision in a spell. He felt her body lean closer to his and he could hear her shallow breaths, he felt them on his upper lip as she gently pressed her face into his, her strawberry mouth lightly brushing his with tiny caresses, and her tongue just barely flicking his lips as she kissed him. Draco could not see, but he did not need to. He knew her every movement, every turn of her head, every curl of her mouth, every heaving sigh. He cupped her cheek in his palm and laced his fingers through her hair as he brought her closer to him. It did not feel like it had before, where he was afraid that she would melt away from him, or be carried away by the faintest breeze. She was there to stay. It felt much too soon when she broke away from him, her face still centimeters away from his, her breath lingering on his moist lips, her eyes staring straight through to his soul. She let out a light laugh as she touched his hand which still rested on her cheek.

"So," Draco said softly, "still scared?"

"Oh, terrified," Hermione said as she sat back down beside him. She raised her wand toward him and lifted the spell, restoring his vision. Draco could now see her, the rosy color around her mouth from kissing, the pinkness of her cheeks, the glimmer of the evening sky that reflected in her glossy eyes from the high arched windows in the room.

"Well, I guess I didn't expect you to be all sunshine and daisies all at once."

She exhaled deeply. "I doubt I will ever be sunshine and daisies. War really changes you, you know?" Draco nodded his head. Hermione meant it changes you for the worst, but for Draco, he realized that it had changed him for the better. "Just one question though," Hermione said as she traced her lips with her finger. "You asked for my help. But I never expected this. Why me?"

Draco sighed. He never expected it either. He asked for Hermione's help because he knew, even though he spent years ridiculing and abusing her, he could trust her. Because he knew she was a good person and her conscience would make her feel horrible if she refused to help him. Leave it to a Gryffindor to be so selfless to help someone who does not deserve any bit of it. That was the reason he asked for her help. However, everything that followed was not only unexpected, but unwanted. Enlisting her help did not mean he still did not find her repulsive. He did not want to hate her anymore, but he surely did not want to start to like her. She was a know-it-all, overbearing, and somewhat bossy type of girl and that was just not his type of girl. But somewhere along there, he felt the block of ice that surrounded and engulfed him start to melt. All the things he found so obnoxious about her, the things that crawled under his skin the most, became the very things that he relished. She was not a know-it-all; she was brilliant. She was not overbearing; she was confidant. She was not bossy; she was commanding. And all of the things he could not see before, he saw now. She was kind and forgiving. She was sweet and loved her friends so fiercely that she would do anything for them. She would willingly put herself in to immediate danger just to help them. Just like she was doing right now with him. There was really no comparison to someone like her. He looked at her and took her hand in his.

"I think," he began, "that I am finally aware of the things that I truly want. Need, actually. And oddly enough, it has always been you. Always." He kissed her palm and Hermione's cheeks turned an even brighter shade of pink than they already had been.

"You are quite the different person, Draco. I think it will take some getting used to," she said with a smile.

"I can insult you every now and then if you'd like. Just for the first couple of weeks. Take the edge off," he said with a wink. Hermione rolled her eyes and pointed her wand at him again.

"Now I'm going to make you deaf."

The breeze carried into the room from an opened window and rippled the curtains that were pulled shut around his bed as he gripped the gold circle that rested on his bare skin. It had warmed up his chest, signaling that Hermione had sent him a message. He lit his wand in order to read it.

_Can't sleep._

Draco smiled as he squeezed the medallion, sending her a reply.

_Neither can I._

The circle warmed up in his palm again.

_Meet me._

He felt his heart pound once against his chest.

_Break the rules?_

Mocking her was always so easy, even via Protean charm.

_Black Lake 10 minutes._

Draco threw on some pants and a shirt and sneaked quietly out of the dorm room and through the dungeons. One good thing about the dungeons was there was rarely anybody patrolling them for students breaking curfew, and there were numerous catacombs and staircases that let out at different points of the castle. He took the set of stairs that led to the lawn, right across from the Whomping Willow. He imagined it would be much more difficult for Hermione, having to come down seven floors from Gryffindor Tower, then meander around the halls until she found her exit point, constantly dodging Filch or Mrs. Norris, as they seemed to be everywhere all at once.

It had been eleven minutes and he sat down on the dock that jutted out onto the Black Lake. The last time he had been here was during the second task of the Triwizard Tournament. It was by far the worst challenge to spectate besides the maze. At least with the third task, you could see flares erupting every now and then. With the lake challenge, they were just staring at water for an hour in the blistering cold. It was far from being fun. Hermione sat down beside him moments later without saying a word. She lay her head on his shoulder and laced her arm.

"You probably shouldn't be dangling your feet that close to the water," Hermione said. "The giant squid could wrap its tentacle around your leg so fast and he would drag you straight to the bottom and nobody would even know."

"You would know, though." Hermione let out a sigh. "So why couldn't you sleep? Same reason why I couldn't?"

"Why couldn't you?" She questioned him.

"Oh, please, Granger. You know why." He then put his knuckles gently under her chin and grazed her lips with his. He felt her smile against his mouth, but it had not been the same as it was earlier that night.

"That's not the main reason why I couldn't sleep."

"Then what's the problem?" He asked. Hermione let out a sigh.

"Harry talked to me tonight. He said that he spends a lot of his time with Dumbledore, whenever he isn't of traveling or something. He says Dumbledore is getting more worn down. Harry said he even overheard Dumbledore talking to someone in his office today, something about You-Know-Who's plotting to kill him." Draco swallowed hard, trying to moisten his throat which all of a sudden turned dryer than a desert. "It just worries me. Without Dumbledore, none of us are safe."

"That is worrisome," Draco said through a fake yawn, pretending to be tired all of a sudden. "I think you just need to try and sleep on it. No use clouding your head with something like that."

"What do you mean?" She questioned him.

"I mean that if You-Know-Who wants Dumbledore killed, then he is going to have to figure out a way to do it. And as it stands right now, there is not feasible way for Hogwarts to be infiltrated to do so." Hermione shrugged. He made it seem like Hogwarts was impregnable, but in reality, it wasn't. His first year, Voldemort was underneath a teacher's turban. Second year, he manifested from a diary and nearly shut down the entire school. And then what would happen this year… Draco shook his head. He did not want to think about it right now, not while Hermione was beside him.

"I suppose you're right. Hogwarts is pretty safe, and Dumbledore can very well take care of himself. He did it last summer, after all." She was referring to the fiasco at the Ministry when he fought Voldemort himself. He could very well do it again.

_Not against half a dozen Death Eaters_, he thought to himself.

"I think we can turn in now." Draco nodded and stood up, his heart thumping against his chest, but not for the same reasons it was earlier in the night. Switched sides or not, he still had a job to do. He just hoped Hermione would not be there to see him do it.

He walked her back up to the castle and kissed her goodnight, watching as she sneaked in through a small door at the side of the castle. He did not go back to the same stairwell that led to the dungeons. Instead, he went up seven flights of stairs and stopped in front of a bare wall across from a whimsical tapestry as a large door appeared in front of him. He stepped inside the Room of Requirement that had transformed itself into the Room of Hidden Things. He had avoided this place for as long as he could, but he knew he could not do it any longer. If he were to stay alive, he would have to kill. There was no other option. If he stood in front of Dumbledore and lowered his wand, a knife would be slid into his back and he would fall to the ground, and everything he had been working toward, everything he had changed for, would be for nothing. He had to convince himself of that as he headed toward the back of the room and toward the large oak cabinet that towered menacingly above him. It would not be long now before the plan that had been set into motion before the school year even began would be realized and he became a killer. He ran a finger along the grain of the polished wood, trying to wrap his brain around how he could ever gain the strength to fulfill this task, when suddenly he noticed the high pitched whooping noises coming from above him. Little electric blue creatures, dozens of Cornish pixies, circled above him. He attempted to pluck one from the air, but that just agitated them as they started flying around faster and more sporadically. He lifted his wand.

"Immobulus," he said, remembering the incantation Hermione used against the little devils in Lockheart's class during their second year. She was brilliant, that girl. He snatched one from the air and the spell started to wear off quickly as the little imp starting squealing in his grip, trying to pry itself from his closed hand.

"You are not going to like this one bit," he said, his voice starting to shake as he lifted his wand from his pants pocket. "And neither will I. But with the sacrifice of your life, you could save one."

_Avada Kedavra._

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><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>So, here's the thing. This chapter will have to keep you for while because starting next month, I am working way to many shifts, and I start another term of school, so on the very scant nights that I have off, I will need to dedicate most of my time to my studies. Once I stop being stupid and taking so many extra shifts, however, I will be able to write more often, so please just bear with me as I fulfill the work schedule from hell this month. So I hope you enjoyed it and I hope you're like "WHAT?" and you're like "WHAAAAAAT?" So just keep that up and until next time, follow, favorite, and review!


	19. Chapter 19

**Author's Note**: I sorta was a bit rebellious and wrote this in the break room at work. Call me dedicated! Enjoy:)

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><p><strong>19.<strong>

Draco was terrified and exhausted. He fell face down on his bed, the velvety green comforter rubbing softly against his face. He winced and massaged the skin on his stomach, still tender from the slashes from a week ago. He leaned against the sink in the deserted bathroom, getting a moment's quiet after screaming at Moaning Myrtle to get the hell out of his face, when Harry Potter walked in, his wand raised and his eyes lit up like fire. Did he know about his relationship with Hermione? Or did he know about the plan? Without a thought Draco threw hexes at him, spells flying between stalls, flimsy wooden doors blasting to bits, smashing toilets and porcelain fixtures. Harry incanted something he never heard before, and that was when the pain started. Like he was being gutted by an invisible fileting knife. Blood pooled all around his body, making intricate swirls as it mixed with the spraying water from the bursting pipes. Snape intervened and Harry ran. Draco moaned as he twisted himself in the bed covers. He wished he could just wrap himself up tightly in the sheets, gently place the pillow across his sweaty face, and let himself suffocate right then and there, but he could not. He had something very important to do tonight. He had to kill someone. Someone who did not deserve to die. He had just left from taking his end of term exam for Charms, and he felt like vomiting. He descended five flights of stairs to reach his bed, praying for just a moment of peace and solitude before he had to face the inevitable. Tomorrow he only had one exam, Defense Against the Dark Arts, but something told him that he would not be taking that exam, but that Snape would be obligated to pass him anyway. After the events that would transpire in just a few hours. His face started getting hot, and he leaned his head over the side of the bed, feeling like retching, when the medallion that rest against his chest warmed him straight through. Something that he never expected in a time like this, he felt his heart leap. It was the girl that made it all disappear somehow. She was calling him. His Hermione. He lifted the medallion from beneath his shirt.

_Ready?_

'Ready for what?' He thought. For a fleeting moment, he wondered if she was inside his head. He wondered if she knew what he was planning on doing. A part of him wished she did. But then he remembered. They were supposed to demonstrate their joint spell to Snape for Hermione's extra credit for missing nearly a month of class. Draco cursed at himself for not remembering. Perhaps if he had remembered, then something else would be occupying his mind instead of the nightmare that was about to come to life. He wiped his shaking hands on his trousers, then gripped the medallion in his palm.

_On my way._

He straightened his tie to sit neatly against his throat, swallowed the lump that was beginning to rise, smoothed down his hair, and exited the dungeons in stride. He could not let her see. He knew she would find out soon enough. He just hoped that she would still be on his side.

He met her at the top of the spiraling staircase in front of the classroom. This classroom where so many things had happened. It started with him snapping her legs in too many places, and ended with an alliance between them. More than an alliance, he thought. She tied her hair back into a bushy ponytail. It seemed to grow wilder and wilder as the day went on. Draco thought that as brilliant as she was, that she could figure out a way to charm her hair to behave better. But it was hers, and because of that, he loved it. Of course, he would try to never let it show. She looked at him nervously, and he just gave her a confident nod. They had been practicing this spells for a few months, every now and then sneaking kisses in between. It felt like such an exciting secret between them. On the surface they appeared to be loathsome enemies, but it was getting harder and harder to fake their disdain for each other.

Hermione entered the room first, exuding poise and confidence, as if this classroom was erected just for her. Draco followed, his wand already gripped tightly in his hand, and a new scowl across his face. _This is beneath you. You have better things to do. Mudblood, mudblood, mudblood._ He swallowed hard again. Now, just the thought of that word pertaining to Hermione made his stomach churn. Snape looked up from his desk at the two, Hermione in front, and Draco dwindling toward the back of the room.

"Ah, Miss Granger. Timely as always," he said flatly. He stood and came out from behind the desk. The room was completely bare, no tables or chairs in sight. "Mister Malfoy," he said, nodding toward Draco, a silent request for him to come forward instead of lurking in the doorway. "I am positively bursting to see what you two have come up with." Draco wanted to laugh. Snape had turned sarcasm into an art form. Hermione did not quite catch the snideness in his remark, but instead just looked at him, puzzled. If he was as excited as he said, his face did not mirror it. She took her wand out of her pocket.

"Professor, I was hoping you would be willing to let us demonstrate this spell on you," Hermione said, her voice not wavering. Snape raised his eyebrows.

"You cannot perform this spell on a mannequin?" Hermione felt like scoffing. If it were simply just a spell that blew something up, she would hardly feel like it would be worthy of anything more than a C grade.

"It has some effects that a mannequin would not be able to show you. I think it would be best if you were to experience the full effects." Snape blinked. Draco wondered if he was worried. Though sometimes an ass, Snape knew Hermione could be lethal. After all, she did defend herself against dozens of Death Eaters last summer, doing some irreparable damage on a few of them. He would never admit it, but he was impressed by her magical prowess.

"You have an effective counter-curse?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Naturally." Draco found her nonchalant disdain for Snape's question incredibly sexy. It was difficult to keep his smile hidden from view. After a few seconds and a silent prayer that he keep all of his limbs, Snape nodded in agreement.

Draco kept about ten feet between Hermione and himself, as he raised his wand toward Snape. Snape looked him in the eyes and sneered.

"Ready, _Malfoy_?" Hermione said, laying it on a tad too thick.

"Let's just get this over with," Draco said, sounding bored. As they positioned themselves, reflecting each other's poses, Snape noticed a gleam of gold shimmering from around Draco's neck, and the same with Hermione. He barely had time to wonder before Hermione's voice rung out strongly.

"On my count. One, two, three!" Without an incantation passing either of their lips, two streams of bright orange light emerged from their wands and converged, making a beam that struck Snape square in the chest and sent him stumbling backward over his desk. First his hands flew to his face, feeling around his eyes to make sure they were still there. Draco imagined it felt like they were being gouged out by rusty spoons. Then he started tearing at his cloak, as if it were on fire, but removing the clothing did not stop the burning sensation that singed his skin. Draco let out a chuckle. He knew Snape could not hear him laughing at his expense, because he was also deaf. He knew he wanted to scream, though he would never do it. Snape help out a hand and shook it furiously in their direction, begging to lift the spell. Hermione pointed her wand at him, and without saying a word, tiny wisps of silver emerged from Snape's body and floated into the tip of her wand.

"Bloody hell," he said, gasping and his voice cracking. He leaned against his desk and panted for a moment. "You will receive full credit, Granger. Good afternoon." He waved her away. Hermione beamed and turned on a dime, skipping out of the classroom with a bright 'Thank you!' before she exited. Draco stood in the same spot, his wand still in his fist, watching Snape as he recovered from what he liked the call the 'Ass-Kicker Curse.'

"Do you want credit as well, Malfoy?" He said, finally regaining his posture and pulling back on his cloak. Draco just shook his head.

"Just wondering," he said as he lowered his voice to barely a whisper, "if you have any last minute advice for me. About tonight." Snape looked at Draco, his eyes grey like storm-clouds. He felt his face become a shade paler.

"In order for it to work," he said, his voice very serious, desperate even, "you have to mean it. You have to really mean it." Then, he did something that even took himself by surprised. He cupped a hand on Draco's shoulder and squeezed. It was a moment that was fleeting, and then disappeared. They regained their stony facades, and Draco pulled away, leaving Snape to feel the slight breeze of his wake.

Hermione walked slowly up the staircase, moseying at a turtle's pace. She then heard a set of footsteps following not too far behind her. She knew whose they were. Instead of following her path up to Gryffindor Tower, she averted toward the Room of Requirement. She knew Draco would follow her there. She stood in front of the tapestry, admiring the image of trolls in tutu's. She began thinking of the room she wanted, but before she could get the thought out, the door began to materialize behind her. She followed Draco inside, and he shut the door behind them as it disappeared into the wall, leaving their whereabouts for nobody to know.

She looked at him, her heart still thumping hard from their spellcasting in the classroom and from climbing several flights of stairs. She opened her mouth to speak, but was cut off by Draco grabbing her face in his hands and bringing her mouth to meet his. He pushed her further into the room, not breaking away from her for a single second. She stepped backwards until the backs of her knees hit the corner of a piece of cushioned furniture. A couch? A loveseat? A bed? She did not care. He wrapped his fingers up in her hair that rested on the nape of her neck, pulling her even closer to him. Their mouths moved synchronously as Draco sat down and pulled Hermione onto his lap, hungry for her to continue letting him do whatever he wanted with her. He drifted away from her mouth and ran his lips over the skin of her cheek, then nibbled on her earlobe, waiting for a small squeak to escape her throat before he descended to kissing her neck as she clawed at him gently. He pulled away for a moment to get a look at her. Her eyes were as crazed and desperate as his were, but her lips snapped back toward him like a spring load. She had now maneuvered herself to where she was straddling his waist with her legs curled up beneath her. She rested her hand on his chest as she kissed him, drinking him in like a tall glass of water in the middle of the desert. The chest beneath her palm was firm and muscular. Her heartbeat fluttered as she had the urge to undo each one of the pesky buttons on his collared shirt, but she refrained. She liked this, and she wanted to relish in this heated moment for as long as possible. Draco exhaled as Hermione's passionate kisses dwindled to small pecks dusted lightly over his cheeks.

"This is fun," she whispered as she planted a small kiss on his earlobe. It made chills run up his arms and his head started to buzz. He hummed in agreement as he placed his hands against the wave of her hips as they curved out from her slender waist. She rested her head between his neck and shoulder. "It's too bad, though."

"What is?" he asked as he kissed her forehead lightly.

"Well, tomorrow is the last day of term before the summer holidays." Draco's stomach dropped to his feet. Tomorrow was the last day of her term. Tonight could very well be the last night of his life. He knew that exams would be cancelled tomorrow. And students would wake up without their beloved Headmaster. He knew this would be the end. Of all of it. Hermione would probably never kiss him again.

"Let's just enjoy what we have right this second. I know I'm enjoying it," he said with a wink, trying to pull his stomach off of the floor. He migrated his hands away from her hips and rubbed them up and down her back tenderly with his fingertips. She pressed her lips against his as her mouth molded into a smile. "But just promise me one thing." Hermione looked him curiously in the eyes. "Whatever you do, please don't leave Gryffindor Tower tonight."

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><p>Well, I think we know what is going to happen next. All I can say is, it won't be pretty. It just won't. And I apologize in advance for breaking your little hearts. Okay, so keep an eye out for it. Maybe I will get another moment like this one to write and post. Until then, please follow, favorite, and review:)<p> 


	20. Chapter 20

**Author's Note: **So, I found another dull moment to write this chapter. And I love this chapter. You probably won't, but I do. So, I am sorry if this breaks your heart.

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><p><strong>20.<strong>

Hermione peered into those stormy grey eyes that looked like thunder clouds coming to a head over the dusky horizon. They were moist and glistening as he stared back at her, silently begging her to fulfill this one dire request of his. This request to remain shut up in Gryffindor Tower like a caged bird. His expression was so fraught, so pleading and desperate, she did not even bother to ask him why. She just nodded her head, making him exhale a feeling of relief, and she continued to kiss him anywhere she could reach.

Draco pawed at her feverishly as their mouths pressed tightly together and he held her body close against his, letting her warmth radiate to his core and allowing the block of ice that sat in his chest to slowly melt away. When she was this close to him, there was nothing else. Nothing existed outside of the Room of Requirement. It was just them and the edge of the earth right outside the door. He wondered what it felt like to love. Was this it? Was it this feeling of longing, of wanting to be nearer to her, even after all the space between them had been closed and she's pressed up against him as tightly as possible? Was it this realization that nothing in the world could make him happy unless she is there to experience it with him? Was it the chills that ran up his arms and straight through him with every breath that brushed across his cheek after passing from her sweet lips? If that was what love was, then he might have loved Hermione Granger. And contrary to what he might have believed in the past, it did not scare him at all. It freed him. He was not the monster he thought he was going to become. He was a being capable of human emotion, and he relished in it as he ran his hands along her sides, around her shoulders and up her neck. This strange feeling was what it was to be happy.

His lips broke away from hers, allowing him to pepper her cheeks with light kisses, then heavier ones as he migrated toward her neck, causing the sexiest noises to escape from her throat as she dug her nails into his chest. He buried his face in her collarbone, her scent intoxicating him to no end, making his head go fuzzy and his cheeks turn pink. She smelled like lilacs and rosewood and weathered, old books. He imagined that this was what Amortentia smelled like. He took a deep breath in, inhaling as much of her that his nose would allow, like he was trying to burn it to memory. Hermione started giggling.

"Why are you sniffing me?" She said between giggles.

"Mmm," he said. "You smell like nothing I have ever smelled before. It's going to drive me mad."

"I'd like to see you go mad. Draco Malfoy, always so poised and stoic, goes crazy over muggle-born Hermione Granger." Draco let out a quiet laugh.

"Stranger things have happened, I suppose." He closed his eyes as Hermione laid sweet kisses on his forehead.

"Draco," she whispered as her kisses traveled along his cheek and to the sensitive skin of his earlobe. He hummed in acknowledgement. "I—" Her words were cut off by a yell from outside the door.

"Hermione! Hermione, where are you? Are you in the Room of Requirement?" A voice standing outside the door was calling her with an alarming sense of urgency. It was Ron. Hermioine jumped off of Draco to see what the fuss was about. Draco grabbed her arm as his dreamlike state came crashing down all around him.

"Hermione, please don't leave." She just shook her head as she straightened out her blouse and threw her hair up into a ponytail.

"It sounds important. I have to see what he needs. Draco, let go." She headed for the door as he released her and ducked behind the wall.

"Just please remember what I told you."

"Don't leave Gryffindor Tower. Got it." Draco hoped she would obey, but knowing her, she obeyed no one. She slipped out of the room and Ron sounded frantic.

"Hermione! I was looking for you everywhere! Harry is gone! He missed the Transfiguration exam and I have looked for him everywhere. Look, his name isn't anywhere on the map! And unless he was in the Room of Requirement with you—"

'Map?' Draco thought to himself. His curiosity got the best of him and when he heard Ron and Hermione walk away from the door, Ron's tones still frantic, he peaked his head out and saw a piece of parchment peeking out from Ron's back pocket.

"Accio map!" He said quietly, and the parchment gently lifted itself from his pocket and glided toward Draco, who snatched it from the air and slunk back into the room. His eyes widened when he opened the paper and saw hundreds of names moving around what appeared to be a blueprint of the entire castle. It was nothing like anything he had ever witnessed before. He quickly found Hermione's name and watched it travel toward Gryffindor Tower. "I'll be keeping an eye on you, love." He said as he traced his finger across the cursive ink. He had not noticed as he peered at this new discovery that the room around his had changed. No longer was it the romantic place he had just spent an hour musing with a beautiful girl. It had transformed into a much darker and clammier room with items strewn all around. A few feet away, he saw a dozen lifeless bodies of Cornish pixies lying on the ground, their large, black eyes fixed on some place in the distance. There was one pixie that flew slowly around the mass grave, its head hung low as it grieved its brothers and sister. Draco's stomach dropped as he stuffed the map in his cloak and exited the room. The sun had long set and it was time to face the music.

He scanned the map frantically, tucking himself in an alcove hidden by the shadows of the moonless summer evening. Looking for a specific name. A name that he hoped would not appear on the map at all, so that he would not have to pursue it. He looked it over three times and then he saw it, plain as day. Albus Dumbledore was in the astronomy tower. Out in the open like a sitting duck. Why did it have to be so fucking easy? Draco was a stone's throw away from that place where Dumbledore now stood, and as he approached, Dumbledore's back to him, he saw the old man crouched over, as if he barely had the energy to hold himself up, like he was a moment away from collapsing. It should not be this easy. He should have been the amazing wizard, towering over him with his wand raised, ready to smite him right where he stood. Put him out of his misery. Put him down like the rabid animal he was. But instead, his weathered eyes turned to see him, his skin yellowed from exhaustion, his beard mangled from the wind. Draco pointed his wand at him, wishing he would draw his own, right between his eyes. But he did not. Instead, he just held out his hand.

"Draco," he said, his voice scraping along his dry throat. "Years ago, I knew a boy who made all the wrong choices. Please, let me help you." Draco felt his face become hot.

"I don't want your help!" He said through clenched teeth. "Don't you see?! I have to do this! I have to kill you… or he's gonna kill me." His lip quivered as he heard a cackle and a familiar squeal come from behind him as the clicking of boots bounced around the walls of the astronomy tower. The cackle was from his aunt, but the squeal made his blood freeze in his veins. It was the same squeal he heard accompanied by several bones snapping in Defense Against the Dark Arts. He told her not to leave Gryffindor Tower. He tried to keep her safe.

"Looky, looky at what I found hiding beneath the stairs!" Bellatrix spat as she sing-songed. She was followed by half a dozen Death Eaters, dangerous snarls on their ugly faces. Draco swallowed hard. "I was going to kill her myself," she said as she stabbed her wand under Hermione's chin as she whimpered. "But then I thought, 'How selfish of me! It is Draco's special night, is it not?'" She tightened her grip around Hermione's arm, digging her nails deeply into her skin, causing her to bite her lip in pain. "I thought, 'Let him be the one to gut her and leave her carcass for the vultures!' A nice appetizer before the _main course_." She threw a maniacal glance toward Dumbledore. Snape strolled out from behind a large beam and stood beside Draco.

"Now, Bella. Do you really think that is necess—"

"QUIET, SEVERUS!" She barked. "Too long I have been ordered around by your pompous ass! But not anymore. Kill her, Draco! Do it now!" Draco attempted to swallow, but it seemed like his tongue had swelled and blocked off his throat. He looked at Hermione as his worst nightmare was coming true right before his eyes. He tried to keep her safe! Bellatrix saw the hesitation in his face and pressed her wand further under Hermione's chin, nearly choking her. "KILL HER NOW! Or I will. And unless you want her filthy blood seeping all over your new, leather shoes, I suppose you do it before I do. Because I won't make it clean."

"Fine." He said, wiping his face clean of any emotion. Hermione looked at him, but saw nothing. His face was cold as stone, and his eyes were blacker than the night they stood in.

"Draco," she managed to squeak. "I thought—"

"What could you have possibly thought, Granger?" He said as he raised his wand and pointed it right at her chest, heaving with every petrified breath she drew. "Didn't mummy and daddy ever tell you to never trust a snake?"

"Draco, you don't have to—"

"Shut it, old man!" Draco barked at Dumbledore. "I have waited for this since I was eleven. Since I first laid eyes on that bushy mane of bullshit. Our world will be glad to be rid of her." Hermione began to sob, tears streaming down her porcelain cheeks like rain against a misty window. Draco begged his arm not to shake as he tried to hold his wand as steady as possible, pointed right at the beautiful creature who he had just recently felt like he loved. She could never love him after this.

"You're nothing but a monster," Hermione croaked between gasps. "Coward." Draco shoved his wand in her direction, mustering the strength to let the green stream of light fly at her like a bullet from a gun, releasing the life from her body. He shot a glance at Snape, whose eyes were fixed upon him as he stood beside him.

"Remember, Draco. _Mean it_." He said this with an urgency that only Draco could detect. He was right. He had to mean it. He had to mean it or it would not work.

"Say goodbye to your pitiful existence, _mudblood_." It was with this one word that slipped out of Draco's mouth, wavering just slightly with ill conscience that Hermione looked to him, hopeful. He did not mean that word. She was sure he did not mean it. She saw his face turn red and veins in his forehead began to pulse. His eyes were cast in a focused shadow as those haunted words passed from his lips, emitting a blinding streak of light from the tip of his wand that hit her in her chest and went right through her.

At first, it felt like the wind had been knocked out of her, like falling flat on your back from a six foot drop. But the air that escaped her lungs would not fill them again, no matter how much she begged. She clung to life, she snatched at it like a moth trying to reach a flame that was just beyond arms reach, but then she grew weaker, unable to even lift her arms or make the tiniest sound. The light that floated in front of her face slowly drifted away from her into the distance, and she no longer grabbed at it, but fell backward into the mysterious void willingly. This was what it was to die, and it was not as bad as she had anticipated. It was quicker than falling asleep.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>So... that happened.


	21. Chapter 21

**Author's Note: **Here is the next chapter. A lot happens and a lot is explained in this chapter, so I hope you like it.

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><p><strong>21.<strong>

Hermione stood over her crumpled body as Draco Malfoy fell to the floor and his wand dropped from his hand. His face had turned a pale shade of green as Snape hoisted him back onto his feet, but he could barely stand on his own. He held his stomach as he turned his head to the side and vomited. Dumbledore stood there, leaning against the wall in shock and fatigue, looking from Draco to Snape to the young corpse which lay a few yards away from him. Hermione looked at Draco's face, at the face of the person who killed her in cold blood. She noticed that the stoney expression and the black eyes she looked into right before she lost her breath had dissipated, and now there was just a shell with the same grey eyes she remembered peering into after every kiss they shared. She wanted to turn away, to leave the astronomy tower and fly across Britain to her home, to see her parents. To wish them goodbye before she stepped across to whatever lies behind the veil. A quick kiss on their cheeks and gone onto the next thing, whatever it may be. But she could not. She felt tethered.

"Pick up your wand, Draco," Bellatrix spat. She seemed upset that killing such an insignificant insect such as Hermione Granger could floor him and make him look so sickly. "You still have work to do." Draco bent down and picked up his wand with a shaking arm. He could barely grasp it in his hand as his fingers fumbled around it. He attempted to point it at Dumbledore, but he could not even lift his arm as he leaned most of his bodyweight into Snape as he kept him standing upright.

"I can't," Draco whispered. "I can't do it." He let his wand drop to his side.

"YOU MUST!" Bellatrix shouted, her gnashed teeth turning into a snarl. Draco shook his head as Snape leaned him against the wall and strolled toward Dumbledore wordlessly. He looked the old man in the eyes.

"Severus," Dumbledore said with a parched voice, "please." With a quick rotation of his cloaked arm and a mumble of words across his lips, green light erupted from the tip of Snape's wand and Dumbledore fell backward, his skin turning grey before he even hit the floor. His half-moon glasses sat askew on his face as Bellatrix laughed and skipped down the stairs. There was nothing left to see here.

Hermione watched as Dumbledore stood up, his silver beard no longer twisted with agony and his skin a glowing shade of peach. He glided over to her with a small smile on his face as he reached out his hand to touch her cheek. She felt like crying.

"I am proud of you, Miss Granger," he said, and with that, his image dispersed into billions of particles of light and he was gone.

"Wait, Professor!" She called out. She wanted to go with him. She did not want to be here anymore. She needed to cross over, to be rid of all of this. But she couldn't, and she did not know why. Draco passed her as he regained his strength to walk on his own, following Snape and the other Death Eaters out of the astronomy tower. He stopped for a second over her body and looked at her, her skin starting to yellow like a corpse. She thought she saw a tear forming on his bottom lashes as he reached into his shirt and pulled out the gold medallion around his neck and squeezed it. He brought it to his lips tenderly before letting it fall against his skin once more, and he was gone. She attempted to follow, but could not move her legs very far. She was stuck. She felt like crying out when she heard shouts. Terrified, wounded shouts coming from her friends. Ron and Harry bounded up the stairs and rushed over to her body, which was losing its warmth quickly. They fell to the ground at the sight of her. Harry scooped her up in his arms as Ron twisted her hair in his fists and brought it up to his face, tears pouring down their cheeks and agonized cries escaping their throats. They had seen it happen. They were hiding below as it all happened. Somehow, Hermione was spotted by Bellatrix but Harry and Ron had remained safe, and though she had lost her own life, she was grateful beyond words that her best friends did not succumb to the same fate. A wet sob escaped Ron's throat.

"We have to take her somewhere. We can't leave her in this place," he said, now stroking the skin of her cheek. Harry just nodded, then looked over at the other body lying a few yards away from them.

"We will tell the others about Dumbledore. We won't leave him here, either." Ron nodded this time as they picked up Hermione's limp body from the dusty floor. As they did, Hermione felt like she could move, and she started following them. She was not tethered to this place, her place of death, she was tethered to her body. But why?

She recalled a rainy Saturday morning in the library, her head filled with thoughts of death. She could feel it getting closer now. No matter how hard she fought, she knew it was coming. She knew she was going to have to die. She hid behind a pile of books, trying to understand what it meant to die. Obviously, there was nothing that added much merit to the discussion, as there were very few reports of someone documenting their experiences of death after they died. There was a mentioning of something she had seen briefly the summer before, the Veil that sat in the middle of a room in the Department of Mysteries in the Ministry of Magic. An arch that could only be passed through one direction. What lies beyond that arch is a mystery to even the most decorated of scholars. She then opened a text from a book on the Study of Ancient Runes. _Gabo Leguz_ was not death itself, but a state of death. The ancient people who once roamed around Britain practiced this 'state of death,' in which they would go into a trance so deeply that their souls would escape their bodies. They appeared dead, but their escaped souls kept watch over their bodies until they were forced to reenter, sometimes only after an hour, and sometimes after a week.

Hermione was not dead. She was in a state of death, and she just had to wait for her soul to reenter her body.

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><p>Draco stumbled behind Snape, who kept a slower pace than the rest to make sure his young comrade did not collapse before they reached the apparition point at the edge of the grounds.<p>

"Draco, you must keep up." He heard a sniffle from behind him. He turned to see Draco covering his face with his hands as he knelt on the ground. Snape watched as the other dozen Death Eaters disappeared into the woods, then knelt down beside Draco, resting a hand on his shoulder. "It's over now."

Draco shook his head. "It's not over. This misery will continue forever!" Draco let out a sob. He figured it was safe since Snape was able to comfort him like this.

"It won't." Snape said matter-of-factly.

"Of course it will. And I am as good as fucked. I couldn't even carry out my task after I—" his words got caught in his throat as he felt vomit rising again. The last thing he saw was Hermione's body, lying their limp and lifeless. He might have killed her. He was sure he did.

Over lapping spells proved particularly difficult for Draco. He did not have much time to practice with rudimentary spells before he had to move up to the most deadly. Dumbledore's life depended on it. Thousands of lives depended on it. He entered the Room of Hidden Things and spotted the electric blue Cornish pixies whizzing overhead. The Cornish pixie population in this room was bountiful, and they were all thin and sickly from the lack of sustenance they were able to scrape up aside from a few cockroaches here and there. Nobody would know if they died. He would practically be doing them a favor by putting them out of their misery, flying around in circles around the room, searching for some purpose that simply did not exist. The first one was met with the Killing Curse, just to see if Draco could do it. He could. The second was met with something else, something that Draco had created himself, pondering over it for weeks, staring at the ceiling from the darkness of his bed, trying to perfect it in his head.

"Ludere mortus," he muttered, his wand pointed at the creature temple that writhed in his grip. The pixie went limp in his grasp. He stared at it for what felt like an hour before it took in a sharp gasp of air and its enormous eyes opened once more. Draco smiled slightly then pointed his wand at it again.

All but one pixie awoke from the Killing Curse. Its eyes opened after snatching air into its lungs and Draco released it, but it did not fly away from him in fear. Instead, it looked at the floor at all of the bodies of its friends and family, and mourned them. Draco wondered if he should have killed it after all. He planned to use this technique on Dumbledore, but Hermione was put at the end of his wand first. He had to focus. He had to mean it. And it took every ounce of energy to keep from accidentally killing her.

They finally reached the apparition point, which was nestled at the side of a cliff on the other side of the Forbidden Forest. Draco grabbed Snape's arm, still too weak to apparate. With a pull behind his navel, they turned on a dime and the rocky ground under his feet became the polished, hardwood floor of his home. He was not thrilled when he was greeted by a full table of Death Eaters in his dining room, and Lord Voldemort himself at the head of the table.

"Ah, Severus, Draco. It is good for you to finally join us," Voldemort said as he waved toward them, and they took a set among the others.

"Our apologies, My Lord," Snape said. "Mister Malfoy got a bit sick before we reached the apparition point." Voldemort raised his eyebrows, or lack of eyebrows, in Draco's direction.

"They served Sheppard's Pie for lunch. Just didn't sit well, I suppose." Voldemort nodded in understanding.

"And the deed is done?" Snape and Draco nodded in unison, wanting to keep the details of Dumbledore's ultimate demise under wraps for as long as possible. Voldemort took a deep breath in, as if he was smelling fresh spring air that wafted the scent of wildflowers into his nose. "Then all is well." He opened his arms to his followers, offering a gesture of rejoice. The Death Eaters around the table whooped and cheered as Voldemort laughed, then looked at Draco again. "My dear boy, I have a surprise for you." With a gesture of his hand, the door leading from the kitchen swung open and a body glided through it and came to rest above the dining room table. Voldemort continued to smile. "We will call this your _dessert_, as I am told that you had a pretty filling appetizer earlier." Draco swallowed as he looked up at the stiff person floating above him, her cheeks stained with dried tears. Her hair was plaited in two long, black braids and she wore a yellow romper over her pale skin. Though it had been nearly ten years, he recognized her immediately. It was Rosie. From her stupor, she turned her head to see him, her neck stiff from the binding spell that kept her so still. She met his eyes with her blood-shot ones.

"Draco?" she mouthed.

"As with any special occasion," Voldemort's voice boomed as Draco looked away from her as she mouth something else at him. He imagined it was 'Help me.' "You will not be the one to cut the cake. I will do it, in your honor." Voldemort stabbed his wand at her, causing an invisible knife to deeply slice the skin of her neck, allowing her blood to spill all over the dining room table. Draco swallowed hard as he rose from the table.

"Thank you, My Lord," he said with a bow, and ducked into the kitchen. There was nothing left for him to vomit as he crouched over the sink and began to hyperventilate. The kitchen door swung open from behind him. He could hear the laughter and the cheers from the next room as Snape stood beside him.

"Draco," he said.

"I'm finished," Draco said as he shoved a hand into his trousers pocket.

"What do you mean?" Draco fingered the small package, still wrapped neatly in its thin paper. The package that his mother sent him what seemed like years and years ago. The Death Amulet. He started to peel the paper back, picking at the edges of the wrappings with his finger nails until he knew the metal of the ring was exposed in the cloth of his pocket.

"Thank you for looking out for me." Draco Malfoy was ready to die. After seeing as much death in this one day right in front of his face, he figured it was not so bad. He would never have to deal with this again. He would never have to pretend to be a monster, and become a monster anyway in the process. He hadn't heard from his mother in months. He was sure she was dead. He was sure he had accidentally killed Hermione. He was not sure if he was even truly alive anymore. He wouldn't miss out on anything. He was ready to die. With a quick gesture of his knuckles, the ring slipped easily on his finger, and the breath left his lungs with welcomed anticipation.

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><p><strong>Authot's Note:<strong> WOW that was a lot on information. And in case you were wondering, the spell that Draco made up, _ Ludere mortus_, means 'play dead.' Just a little fun thing I stuck in there. So there it is. One person lives, and the other dies. I am sorry I keep doing this to you. Call me George R. R. Martin, I guess. I will try to get the next chapter up soon, but until then please, please PLEASE follow, favorite and review:)


	22. Chapter 22

**Author's Note: **So I got this out quickly because you all started freaking out. So here it is.

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><p><strong>22.<strong>

Hermione felt her ethereal existence beginning to dwindle. It had been nearly three hours now since she had seemingly lost her life at the hand of Draco Malfoy and she watched one of the greatest men she had ever known crumple in death right before her eyes. She watched in agony as Harry and Ron wept over her lifeless body after they gently placed her on the floor beside the fire in the Gryffindor Common Room. Hermione followed them in their wake as they both carried her up seven flights of moving staircases, their eyes red and wet as they were struggling to hold on to their sanity. Hermione saw Professor McGonagall before the boys did, and she felt like crying. She was about to learn that her most trusted confidant, her best friend, lay dead in the astronomy tower, awaiting her arrival to take his body away and adorn him with flowers. She covered her mouth in horror as she laid her eyes on Harry and Ron, noticing the greyish color of Hermione's skin and the limpness of her limbs. She could not get a sound out, but rather just choked on a small cough. Ron's blotchy face met her eyes, and Harry could not even bring himself to look up at her. She did not say anything. Instead, she opened up her arms and drew the two into her motherly embrace. They both sobbed deeply in her emerald robes as she planted consoling kisses on their cheeks and gently petted their heads. She let a few tears fall onto her own weathered cheeks.

"Professor," Harry said after finally catching a breath between sobs. "They got Dumbledore, too. The astronomy tower." Her misty eyes met his in understanding as she kissed Hermione's chilled forehead and trotted down the steps to meet the cold body of the Greatest Wizard of the Age.

Ron was stroking her hair as she stepped closer to her body. It was time for her to wake up. It was time to comfort her best friend who thought he had lost one of the most important things in his life. It was not until this moment that she really saw how he felt. He was obviously just bad at showing it when she was alive. Her eyes fluttered open slowly as she took in a shallow breath. Ron's heart nearly stopped as he stared at her like a deer in the headlights.

"Her-Hermione?" he whispered, sounding bewildered and defeated.

"Hi, Ron." She sat partially sat up before Ron threw his arms around her neck and pulled her close to him. Harry, who was pacing in the back of the Common Room, rushed over at the sound of her voice and nearly jumped on top of her. Both of them were crying uncontrollably, more so than when they thought she was dead.

"You were dead, Hermione. You were dead. We saw it! He killed you and you were dead!" Ron was rocking her back and forth as Harry dug his face into Hermione's bushy hair.

"It's okay, now. I'm here and it's all okay." Ron sniffed loudly, still not letting Hermione go.

"It's not okay. They-they killed Dumbledore," he released Hermione and looked at her puzzled. "Wait, if you're still alive, then he might be too!" His eyes looked hopeful, but Hermione just shook her head.

"But if it happened to you," Harry said with a wet voice.

"No. Dumbledore is dead." She recalled the last words that he exchanged with her before he drifted away into whatever was beyond. He said he was proud of her. Harry stood up and held his hand out to help Hermione off the floor.

"We have to go down there. People will have questions, and McGonagall… we have to go." Ron stood up as well and nodded, but did not want to let Hermione out of his sight.

"I'll go with you. Just give me a second to get the feeling back in my legs." Harry and Ron nodded and stepped out of the portrait hole. Hermione dipped her hand into her blouse and pulled out the long chain that dangled around her neck. She saw Draco squeeze his before he left, and she wondered if he had anything to say that could possibly make her forgive him for what he had done. The gold shimmered and glinted the light of the fire as she read the words inscribed on the gilded feather.

_I am so sorry. I love you._

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><p>Draco's face smacked the ground with a dull thud. He landed flat on his stomach as the air was forced out of his lungs by his hard meeting with the earth. He took a sharp breath in and let the smell of dirt and grass fill his nose before he bothered to open his eyes. He was laying in the middle of a patch of brightly colored irises and daisies and tulips, whose petals were shut as they waited for the sun to rise. A torch glimmered dimly above him as vines of ivy climbed its pole and wrapped around the glass that framed the glowing flame. A foot from him were two stone swans which held up a basin full of water with their long, curving necks. He heard the trickling of water from a fountain somewhere near him. Apparently hell was a garden.<p>

Crickets and locusts buzzed in the trees around him as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. The sky above him was clear and he could make out far more stars than he had ever seen before. He could even see the orange and blue wisps that made up the ribbon of the Milky Way. He stood up slowly, and recognized faint lights appearing through square windows beyond a line of trees as he brushed the vegetation from his trousers. After he regained his posture, he stepped over a short fence enclosing the garden and made his way toward the lights that broke through the darkness. The grass was mown short and was damp under his feet as he made the trek past the tree line. He approached a small cottage made of bricks of limestone with yellow shutters and small pots of flowers nestled on the window sills. He twisted the emerald ring around his finger as he peered through one of the windows toward the back of the house.

Inside the house he saw a large, stone fireplace with fluffy couches and chairs around it, intricate little knick-knacks sitting on the mantel and a large family portrait hanging above it. In the portrait was a tall, thin man with thinning brown hair, a small, lender woman with jet, black hair who had her petite hand on the shoulder of a young girl with hair as pink as bubble gum. He found their faces familiar, but did not have time to place them before his eyes met with another's. The man who he recognized from the family portrait was standing in the doorway, his eyes locked on his, frozen where he stood, as if he was seeing a ghost. Draco began to panic. It was the middle of the night and he was standing in some family's backyard, peeking into their house like some peeping Tom. He darted away from the window and started to make his way back toward the trees when he heard a door slam and voices emerging from the house.

"Is it him?" he heard a feminine voice say.

"It has to be! Nobody else could get past the Fidelity Charm!" The man's voice said.

"Draco?" The calling of his name was like that from an angle in a dream. He stopped dead in his tracks at the sound of his of mother's voice, calling after him like the prodigal son. He turned around and a pair of arms wrapped around his neck as the smell of roses filled his nose and he was transported back to the days of his childhood, when he would snuggle up to his mother in the middle of summer and take naps in the sunshine. He folded his arms so tightly around his mother that his towering body nearly engulfed her petite frame and she almost disappeared in his embrace. He never hugged his mother like this, and after months of wondering if he would ever get the chance to do it ever again, he had a hard time of letting her go.

"Mum," he said as he kissed her hair.

"Oh, Draco. I am so glad you are safe." He released her and held up his hand to show her the ring, suddenly starting to feel rage creeping up in his stomach. Narcissa's face became somewhat guilt stricken.

"I was ready to die. I wanted to die, Mother." She took a couple of steps back from him, looking down with guilt. "I wanted to die." His voice heightened as he held back a stabbing feeling of sorrow.

"I'm sorry, Draco."

"Why did you lead me to believe this was a Death Amulet? Why didn't you just tell me it was a portkey? I probably would have left a lot sooner had I known that!" He took the ring off and threw it onto the ground.

"Draco, please. I was trying to keep you safe. If the Dark Lord had used Legilimency on you, he would have known that you knew I was alive! He would have tortured you for my whereabouts so that he could kill me for betrayal. And I knew you would sooner die than put your mother in danger. And," she hesitated, "I knew that once you wanted to die instead of continuing being faithful to the Dark Lord, that would be the right time to bring you here." He looked to his mother, finally understanding her intentions, then looked to the two people standing behind her.

"Who are they?"

Narcissa turned to see the couple as they walked toward them, ready to be introduced. "This is Ted Tonks," she said, and the man extended his hand to Draco. "And this is your aunt, Andromeda." The woman with black hair smiled at Draco and took a step toward him, then embraced him in a very awkward and stiff hug. Though it was something he was not used to, he rather enjoyed this new bounty of affection. He had not realized how starved he was for it.

"Come inside, Draco," Andromeda said. "I am sure you are hungry. We have some stew on the—" _CRACK._

Before Andromeda could finish her sentence, a slender witch with electric blue hair with orange tips stumbled into the yard, her pink robes askew on her body as she nearly fell into a rose bush. Her eyes were particularly wild as she set them on her parents.

"Dora?" Ted said. "We weren't expecting you tonight. Are you alright?" Nymphadora Tonks was shaken and out of breath. She shook her head.

"No, dad. I just apparated from Hogsmeade. I was on the scent of a couple of Death Eaters, but they vanished like smoke. The Death Eaters, they killed Dumbledore. And Minerva told me about another one they got. Hermione Granger. Too sweet of a girl for what they—" she suddenly stopped as her eyes, seemingly glowing red, rested on Draco. "You." She whipped her wand out and pointed it right between his eyes. "I'm an auror, you know. A damn good one. You know what aurors do, little Draco? Hmm?"

"Dora, put that away!" Ted said.

"We kill murderers like you. If you're lucky, that is."

"Nymphadora Vulpecula Elizabeth Tonks! Stop that this minute!" Andromeda shouted.

"Murderer?" Narcissa whispered, looking to her son with a horrifed shadow cast over her face, hoping these words were nothing but lies. Draco looked Tonks in the eyes, not flinching as she continued to point her wand right in his face, like staring down the barrell of a loaded gun with a maniac's finger on the trigger.

"That's right, Narcissa. Your son is a murderer. He killed Hermione Granger."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Tonk's is pissed. But you would be too. After all, none of them know that Hermione woke up. So the plot thickens are the pot continues to be stirred! So now I think I will leave you with this for a while. I have a vacation coming up, plus school and work to sort through. I hope this will keep you satisfied for a little while. Until the next chapter is posted, please follow, favorite, and review.


	23. Chapter 23

**Author's Note: **Here ya go, lovelies!

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><p><strong>23.<strong>

Draco's eyes opened slowly as he felt a body sitting on the edge of the bed, and a soft hand smoothing down the hair over his forehead. At first he expected to see his mother, this devilishly clever woman who used his willingness to die against him so they could be reunited safely. Just like a Slytherin. But, instead of her signature scent of roses, he smelled lilacs and old books. His heart lept into his throat as he laid his eyes on his Hermione who smiled at him sweetly.

"You're finally awake," she said softly as she continued to brush her hand gently across his face.

"Hermione," Draco said, his voice scratchy from his apparently long rest, "you're alive." Hermione let out a small giggle.

"Yes, I'm alive." Without thought, without inhibition, Draco snatched her face in his trembling hands and brought her lips to meet his. The skin of her cheeks under his palms was mildly sticky, as if she had been crying moments earlier. Though it had only been about half a day since their last encounter, it felt like centuries since he had been this close to her. He devoured her hungrily, eating up every morsel of affection she willingly gave to him as he kissed her.

"I'm so sorry, Hermione," he said as he came up for air and rested his forehead against hers. "I tried to keep you safe. I tried to warn you. I-" Hermione placed her finger across his lips, silencing him.

"Shh. I know you did." She wrapped her hands around the back of his neck, the tips of his hairs curling around her fingers, and pulled him into her, her mouth moving across his like the waves of a balmy ocean. Draco exhaled deeply against her plump, strawberry lips in relief. It was far from over, but she was with him. After everything he did, she was still beside him. The world could have been crashing down around them and nothing would have mattered because she was there, kissing him with such innocence and disregard. He did not want to break away from her again, but he needed to ask her something.

"Hermione, did you get my message?" Hermione looked at him, puzzled.

"What message?" Draco looked to see the gold chain that sat around her neck, the one he gave her after Christmas, but it was missing.

"Where is your necklace?" He asked urgently as he traced a finger along the bare skin that was void of the gold chain.

"Necklace?" Hermione looked confused.

"Yes, the gold necklace that I gave to you!" He was getting somewhat irritated at her cluelessness, then wondered if the spell he cast on her might have had some effect on her memory. Hermione shook her head like she had water in her ears, her gaze growing ever the more perlexed.

"I don't... remember." Her expression became anxious. "Draco, what's happening?" She placed her hands on her face, scratching the skin on her cheeks. Draco looked upon her in horror. Her skin began to grey and sag, sinking into the contour of her facial bones. Her eyes then looked straight past him and they turned to sludge in her eyes sockets and her sullen skin turned to dust. Draco scurried backward away from her horrific figure, now just a wan skeleton that reached out to him in his terror.

"Why did you do this to me?" Hermione's skull cried to him. Draco pulled his knees to his chest and rocked back and forth as he tightly closed his eyes, praying for this nightmare to end. He opened his eyes slowly, his hearts pounding furiously as he felt a body sitting at the edge of his bed, and a soft hand smoothing down the hair on his forehead. He did not smell lilacs and books this time, but the familiar scent of roses. His mother sat beside him, a worried look in her eyes.

"Draco," she whispered as he attempted to sit up. He did not realized how much his body ached all over. Narcissa put a hand on his shoulder and nudged him to lay back down.

"Why do I feel like such shit?" He said as he rubbed his eyes with his knuckles. Narcissa pursed her lips as she looked away from him. "Mum..."

"Nymphadora wants to take you to Azkaban."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Of course that ugly slag wants to haul me off to Azkaban! Go ahead, let her try!" He said as he held out his wrist to be shackled.

"Keep your voice down. This is serious. She thinks you killed the Granger girl!" Draco looked away from her as she watched him, narrowing her eyes. "It's a lie, Draco. They're lying." The confidence in her voice began to dwindle.

"Yes, well, what if they're not." Narcissa covered her mouth as she gasped and let out a whimper.

"You.. you did? Draco, you killed her?" Draco stood up as his blood started to rise.

"I don't know!" He shouted! His head began swimming as he started to fall backwards onto the bed.

"You don't know? Draco, how do you not know if you've killed a person? It's pretty black and white!"

"Well, not this time." Draco rested his elbows on his knees and placed his face in his hands. Narcissa placed a hand on his back as her worst fear was staring her right in the face. Had her son become the thing she so desperately tried to help him avoid? She felt her palm vibrate on his back as she realized he had started to cry. The last time she remembered her son crying was when he was still in diapers. "I tried to keep her safe." There was a vigorous knock on the bedroom door. Draco straightened himself out, and Narcissa was bewildered at how stoic he had become, as if he had never released any emotion a day in his life. Nobody would have known he had ever cried. This made her wonder, how many times had he cried like this before and she had never known it because he was so good at wiping himself clean of it? She assumed that he had cried more than she had ever noticed, and this made her feel ashamed as a mother who was unable to comfort her son.

Tonks entered the room, her hair now short and spiked and the color of blood. "All done licking your wounds?" She was nursing a purple bruise on her cheekbone and a cut over her eyebrow. Draco gave her a confused look. "I gave you a pretty nice shiner there, too. Don't think you were the only one to get a lick in. Pretty sore too, I'll wager. That spell I knocked you out with is a pretty nasty secret." Draco felt the throbbing on his eye socket now. Tonks must have punched him in the face before she subdued him. He scarcely remembered lunging at her during their first greeting out on the lawn. She tromped over to him and yanked him up by the arm. "Come on. We are leaving."

"Leaving? Where are we going?" Draco shouted as attempted to escape her grip on him. She had an uncannily strong arm.

"Confidential." She led him out of the room as his mother just watched in horror, unsure of her son's fate. They walked out of the cottage and onto the lawn, the sun just barelt peeking over the hills, and the stars beggining to disappear into the lightening sky.

"Azkaban, I can presume?" Tonks let out a sarcastic chuff.

"Not quite that lucky, cousin. Where we are going will make Azkaban look like Kensington Palace." They stepped outside of the small gate at the end of the walk, and with a pull behind his navel, they disappeared.

With a loud crack they stood in the middle of a dimly-lit city street, littered with flyers and loose newspapers along the sidewalks. Car alarms and barking dogs met Draco's ears as he realized they were now in London as opposed to the quaint countryside of his aunt's cottage. They were facing a brick building that had a plackard on the side that read 'Grimmauld Place.'

"Right, so since I doubt that you will ever get the chance to walk out of this place alive, I suppose there is no harm in revealing it to you." With a wave of her wand, the building expanded, brick by brick, scaling along the sidewalk a good ten yards until a door and a stoop emerged between numbers eleven and thirteen. Tonks shoved him through the gate and up the stairs where the door flew open and a besweatered arm ripped him inside before he could even think. Tonks was right. The inside of this place made Azkaban sound like a palace. Cobwebs adorned every inch of the walls and ceiling, floorboards were cracked and missing, there were dusty tapestries and empty portrait framed hanging on the wall. No doubt the frames' occupants became disgusted of their living conditions and vacated their portraits immediately. Draco did not have much more time to look around before he was staring at the tip of a wand that was an inch from his nose. Remus Lupin was at the other end of this wand. It seemed that he had become accustomed to this new style of greeting.

"If I throw a stick, will you get out of my fucking face, Wolfy?" he said snidely. Tonks did not hesitate to punch him hard in the back of the head, causing him to see black and yellow spots for a few moments.

"Very funny, Malfoy. I wouldn't be making jokes if I were in your situation. You are a prisoner of war." Draco laughed.

"Yeah, right. Because the other side is just dying to get me back. Don't make me laugh, Lupin."

"Well then all the more reason to watch your tongue. Neither side wants you, so what good are you alive?" Remus Lupin shoved his wand under Draco's chin theatheningly, putting a crater in his skin. "I could kill you. Just like you killed Dumbledore."

"I didn't kill him." Draco wondered why he did not say Hermione's name instead.

"You are the reason he is dead, you rancid piece of shit." He snarled, baring his teeth like a rabid animal.

"Remus! That is enough. Take him to the back," Tonks said as she shoved Draco forward again, toward the end of the hallway. They entered a room past the kitchen that was a little bit bigger than a closet with one light hanging in the center of the room.

"Well, would you like me to do this the easy way and give you Veritaserum or the hard and satisfying way and pry open your mind with a crowbar and risk your precious sanity?" Lupin said as Draco sat down in a chair that had been conjured right beneath the light.

"What is it you are trying to find out?"

"Just the truth," Tonks said as she shut the door and cast a muffling charm on the room. "Things seem a bit... _fuzzy_ to us. And since you were right there, we would like to hear it from you." She seemed a lot more level headed than Lupin did in this moment.

"Well, in that case, I'll take the Legilimency. Veritaserum has an awful taste, and I'd wager that you would not believe me even if I did tell you." Lupin's eyebrows shot up in disbelief. "But first, what is this place?"

"Headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix," Lupin said as he raised his wand. "Now, the less you resist, the less it will hurt. The more you resist, the more fun for me. _Legilimens_."

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><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Eh. Not the best chapter, but it serves its purposes. I keep telling you that I won't be able to write but then I go ahead and do it anyway. I guess it's just for good measure in case I find myself stranded in the middle of the desert or something. Okay, well that was it. Please follow, favorite, and review!


	24. Chapter 24

**Author's Note:** This story is officially longer than my other completed story, _Becoming Someone Else, Somewhere Else_. If you haven't read it yet, it's worth a look. So anyway, here is the next chapter. Enjoy!

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><p><strong>24.<strong>

Draco crumpled onto the lawn as Tonks shoved her wand away into a felt pocket in her maroon robes and held a bruised hand to her face where his fist had met her high cheek bone. She could already feel it swelling up beneath her skin, making a large, unattractive lump. She did not mind it. It was not the first time she got a shiner from someone dumb enough to take her on. Plus, she figured it made her look edgier, as if her wild hair did not do the trick the first time. Narcissa held Draco's limp body and began whimpering over him like a mother dog over her injured pup. Tonks rolled her eyes as she looked upon the sight. She never understood the dramatics of parents with their children. When she was little, she ran around on a broken ankle for hours before even making a whimper, and her parents knew she did not need to be coddled after that. She knew that she and Remus would never have one, and that was the end of that.

"Don't fret, he's just stunned. Bloody tosser," Tonks said as she wiped a bloody lip on her sleeve. She turned around before she heard Narcissa growl at her. "He will probably be out cold for a few hours at least. Get him inside. I am going to see what they want me to do with him." Narcissa stood up and cleared her throat, trying to sound as composed as possible.

"Are you going to take him to Azkaban?" Narcissa said with a quivering lip. Tonks shrugged her shoulders as she pulled up her hood.

"That is not up to me. I will be back soon. He is not to leave. That is an order." With a turn of a dime, she disapparated, leaving her parents, her aunt and her unconscious cousin behind at the countryside cottage. With a loud crack, she reappeared in the night, her feet meeting the cobblestone-paved streets of Hogsmeade and Hogwarts Castle towering majestically on top of the hill in front of her. She looked up at its magnificence, remembering all of the fond memories she once had that were now tainted by death and despair. It had only been four years since she was a student, but looking up at that place now, it seemed like ages ago. It was so foreign to her now. She did not know this place anymore.

Dumbledore was not just her Headmaster or her ally, he was her friend, and the space that his presence filled in her soul was now gaping and empty. She was still trying to piece it all together. She was met by a patronus shaped like a cat that flitted through the open window and perched itself on the arm of the chair she was lounging in and spoke with Minerva McGonagall's voice. All it said was "Dumbledore is dead. Come now." After arriving to the castle, windblown and flustered, she only had a moment, just a few words in passing, with McGonagall before she took off after a Death Eater who was a straggler from his pack. She expected after tailing him through the winding roads of Hogsmeade that he was a just distraction while the others met at a different apparition point at the edges of the grounds. The words McGonagall said to her as she passed her in the courtyard were, "Potter told me and I found him there. The Death Eaters were in the castle. They got Hermione Granger as well. Malfoy." Tonks did not expect to hear that her younger cousin had been a part of this, but she was not surprised. It was only a matter of time. Though she barely knew her murderous cousin, Tonks knew Hermione well. They were quite close actually. Both of them were the only child in their family, both were rather eccentric, and they bonded over their similarities. Hermione was also very intrigued by her Metamorphmagus status, always asking questions, trying to figure out a way to become one herself. "I would like to just make my freckles go away," Hermione once said, to which Tonks replied, "Then you would look like all those non-freckled ninnies running around. You are definitely more pretty with them." Hermione smiled as she touched her face. Yes, Tonks was fond of Hermione and hearing of her death was more than difficult. It was like finding your long lost sister at long last, and then having her ripped away from you at the hand of another.

She made it up to the castle and came across an enormous group of students, probably all of the students who had not gone home yet due to OWLs and NEWTs, standing in the courtyard, silent with their wands in the air, honoring the man who they had come to trust, to love, and now, to mourn. Their eyes were moist with tears, their cheeks red from emotion, and their lips quivering at the thought of the void that the death of their beloved Headmaster had now made in their hearts. The sight of this made Tonks's eyes misty, but she quickly blinked away any tears when she saw McGonagall standing at the front of the crowd.

"Minerva," she said, barely even a whisper. "May we go inside?" McGonagall wiped her nose with a square handkerchief as she nodded, allowing Tonks to escort her into the castle and into a semi-private niche where they were able to talk. "Tell me what happened, whatever you know."

"Well," she said, her throat still catching on rising tears, "I just... I had a feeling. And I went out of my office and started walking around the castle when I came across Potter and Weasley. They had tears in their eyes and they were holding Hermione Granger in their arms and I knew she was dead. Potter told me that they had killed Albus as well and I did not hesitate to send a patronus that very second. Then, I went up to the astronomy tower and there he was, lying on the floor." Tonks rubbed McGonagall's back as she wiped her nose with her handkerchief again.

"Potter was there? Did he see what happened? What did they do with Hermione?" McGonagall shrugged.

"I don't know. I don't even think they knew. They just wanted to get her somewhere they knew was safe. And I guess he had to have been there if he knew what all had happened. I know he was with Dumbledore earlier in the evening."

"I need to speak with Harry, Minerva. Now." They quickly made their way up seven flights of stairs until they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, who nearly shrieked when she saw them approaching.

"Oh, thank HEAVENS you are here, Professor. Two boys just carried in a girl who looked to be dead! Please tell me she was not dead, Professor. I just couldn't POSSIBLY-"

"Flea bag," she said, emotionlessly, trying to ignore that Fat Lady as she carried on her wailing. She continued as the portrait hole swung open and Harry and Ron nearly ran them over in a rush. "Potter, Weasley!" McGonagall said, quite startled as she was almost bulldozed over by them.

"Sorry, Professor," Harry said, his eyes wild. He seemed like his mind was running a million miles an hour. He tried to continue to say something when McGonagall started shoving them back in through the portrait hole.

"Tonks needs to speak with you, Harry. About Dumbledore. And Miss Granger," she said with a slight sniffle. Harry looked her in the eyes.

"Yes, about that. Well.." As McGonagall and Tonks pushed past Harry and Ron and emerged in the Common Room, they jumped as if they were looking at a ghost. Hermione Granger was standing in front of the fire place, staring at a gold necklace that was draped around her neck. She looked to be in a trance.

"Hermione!" Tonks yelped as she ran toward her and threw her hands around her neck. "They said you were dead!"

"Yes, well, I am alive, it seems," Hermione said, somewhat listless as Professor McGonagall put her arms around her as well, showing a type of affection that one is incredibly lucky to see in his or her lifetime.

"How is this possible?" McGonagall whispered as she blinked away tears. "I saw your body."

Hermione nodded her head. "Honestly, I am trying to wrap my brain around it as well. When Malfoy cast the Killing Curse, something happened. Professor, are you familiar with _Gabo Leguz_?"

"Vaguely," McGonagall said.

"Well," Hermione began, finally starting to feel like her old self, "ancient magical people practiced this. They would go into deep trances, the deepest trance attainable, and their souls would actually leave their bodies, mimicking death. Everything about their bodies said death, but the only thing different was their souls did not cross over, instead they were tethered to their bodies until they were able to reenter, ending the trance and they went on about their business as if nothing had happened." Tonks and McGonagall looked like deer in headlights as they looked at her, stunned. "I obviously did not put myself in a trance. I can barely understand it myself but it's as if..." Hermione suddenly stopped as if she had become frozen in time. The gears in her mind had been freshly oiled and she was coming upon a realization.

"As if what, Hermione?" Tonks questioned.

"That bloody snake. He fucking did it." Harry and Ron snapped ther heads back at her vulgarity. McGonagall even shuddered at her uncouth use of wording.

"Miss Granger, please."

"Sorry, Professor. It's just that... I can hardly believe he did it. I don't even think I could have done it."

"What are you talking about, Hermione?" Ron piped up, still trying to grasp the fact that Hermione was actually alive.

"He mentioned something to me before. I had no idea he was actually going to try it. I guess I did not want to believe he would ever need to. He asked me about Overlapping spells. I told him that it is difficult even with minor spells, but-"

"Wait, Hermione. Are you trying to say that Draco Malfoy, who can't even conjure a patronus, was able to Overlap the Killing Curse?" Tonks questioned as she rested a hand on Hermione's shoulder.

"I think that is exactly what I am saying." The four people standing in front of her were completely silent, trying to understand why Draco had spared her life at such a high cost. Hermione just shook her head, trying to hide a smile. Though she was upset that he had risked her life with a spell that could have so easily failed, she was quite impressed.

"And what about Dumbledore?" Tonks said, her voice somewhat shaky.

"It was Snape," Harry said, matter-of-factly. Hermione nodded her head in agreement. Tonks took a sharp breath in as the shock took over. Severus Snape was in the Order. He knew their location. The Fidelius charm needed to be altered, and fast if they were going to remain safe. Tonks shook her head and tried to paint on a weak smile.

"Well, first thing is first, we need to get you three out of here. We will take you to Headquarters. We will find out everything else along the way. Hermione, you cannot be seen. If a Death Eater is hiding out there in the darkness and spots you alive after they just saw you die from a Killing Curse, we will have a whole new problem on our hands." She draped her arms around Hermione, Harry and Ron. "Minerva, you can stay here. Tend to the students. And to Albus. I will send a patronus later." McGonagall nodded.

"You may use the Floo in my office. The password is 'treacle fudge.'" She hid the sob that rose in her throat. That was Dumbledore's favorite sweet.

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Just wanted to sort of fill in what happened on the other end after Draco went to Andromeda's house and he was knocked out for those few hours. So now that's taken care of. Well, I hoped you enjoyed it! So keep an eye out for the next chapter, and remember to follow, favorite, and review!


	25. Chapter 25

**Author's Note: **Hello, my dear readers! I would first like to apologize for keeping you waiting so long. With my vacation and my schooling and NOW I have my wedding to plan (RIGHT?! I am so excited!), it has been a crazy month. Or however long it has been. But, like I promised and have always been promising, I did not forget, nor will I ever. Here is chapter 25. Enjoy.

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><p><strong>25.<strong>

It was a very odd sensation. Having another person delve into your mind felt like diving into a twelve foot deep pool. Draco felt pressure pushing on all sides of his skull and like water shot up his nose at eighty miles an hour. He did not fight it. He knew that he had nothing to hide. Sure, he might have killed Hermione, but they would see that it was not his intention. They would finally see. Somebody would finally be able to understand exactly what was weighing down on him. Whether or not they decided to spare his life after unhinging his mind did not matter to him in the slightest. All that mattered was that he did not have to hide anymore and he did not have to find the words to explain himself. Images in his mind flipped over each other like pages in a book as Remus Lupin explored his thoughts, his memories, and his darkest secrets.

His mother beckoned him from the bottom of the staircase, her face white as a ghost and her hands trembling as she pinned them to her sides, attempting to hide her uneasiness. She pursed her lips tightly and kept her head bowed low as he passed her into the entry hall where a tall, slender figure stood before him. Draco stopped dead in his tracks, wanting to rub his eyes with his fists. Was he really seeing this? Voldemort was standing in his home, his father crouched down on the floor beside him in a cowering grovel. "Ah, Draco," he said with a hiss. "I have a job for you."

Draco stood in front of a large, oak cabinet in the middle of Borgin and Burke's. It had three large scratches going down the front of the door, exposing the splinters underneath. Fenrir Greyback laughed and recounted a story about an old Irish couple living at the end of a cove in Godric's Hollow. The deep scratches buried in the wood were from him, and he tore their skulls open before they could disappear through the cabinet. That was during his glory days.

His mother pulled him into a small alcove in Kings Cross Station, hidden away from Platform 9 3/4. She withdrew her emerald hood revealing her face, and Draco could see the bruise his father left on her right cheek after he struck her to the ground. She had burned the stew the night before. She pulled him close to her for a hug, and he was careful not to hold her too tightly, as he was sure her ribs were sore from falling against the marble counter top in the kitchen. He wiped away a tear gently from her cheekbone, pulled up her hood again, and boarded the train without looking back.

The sound of Hermione Granger's legs snapping echoed against the stone walls of the classroom and buzzed around his head like a demonic chorus. It was a horrific sound, and her face turned a terrifying shade of white as she grimmaced in buckling pain. Draco felt like running. Like running straight off of a cliff.

Draco sat at the side of Hermione Granger's bed in the hospital wing. Her eyelids fluttered slightly and her eyes bore holes in him as she expected him to kill her. To finish off the job. He felt like vomitting.

He pointed his wand right between her eyes. He was so angry. He was so afraid. But she looked so calm. He shouted at her to raise her wand. He wanted her to cause him pain like he had so often done to her countless times before. He deserved every ounce of painful revenge that she could muster, but she refused. She was giving him a second chance.

His heart pounded as Hermione stepped into the room in the library to meet him. He was going to take her up on her offer to change. He could not do it anymore.

Snape informed him that his mother was missing. Draco knew that she was probably dead.

Draco watched as the dramatic scene unfolded in front of him, and Hermione sat alone, her face in her hands and tears spilling from her eyes. Her scent wafted through the November breeze, intoxicating him as he sat down beside her and goosebumps ran across his skin. Even with a tear stained face and a bushy ponytail, she looked stunning in the silhouette of the moonlight. He kissed her, and for a fleeting moment, he felt the troubles of the world melting away, leaving only an ignorant bliss. Then, as quickly as it had happened, his stupor was broken, and Hermione fled.

He shoved a wand in Bellatrix Lestrange's face as she recoiled from him, her arms covering her face. "I'm the coward?" He said, then threw her wand to the floor and stormed out of the room.

Draco could see nothing but darkness, but could smell Hermione as her face came closer to his. Her strawberry lips grazed his gently, and fire surged through him as she kissed him. It was more exhilarating than he had ever imagined, and for once in a long time, he felt something close to joy.

"Dumbledore knows that Voldemort is planning to have him killed." Hermione said. Draco wondered if she knew. He hoped she did not, and though he was beginning to wonder if he loved her, he hoped he would be dead before she found out that it would be him who was supposed to kill him.

Ten pixies lay lifeless on the floor of the Room of Requirement as Draco hammered his fist against the Vanishing Cabinet. This had to work. He had to make it work somehow.

Hermione bit Draco's lip as she straddled him on the couch in the Room of Requirement. Draco wondered how long they had been doing this. A few minutes? A few hours? He did not care. Nothing existed when he was with her. Nothing but the intensity that exuded between them. He believed he loved her, which made this so much more difficult. He knew she could never love him after this night.

Dumbledore rested against the wall as Draco pointed his wand at him. "I have to kill you," Draco said. His vision was blurry, and he could barely see the old man standing in front of him. Then he heard a blood-curdling cackle and a sweet whimper coming from behind him. His beloved was stuck in the clutches of a black-maned monster. Her sweet face was stricken with fear as Bellatrix's wand dug into her neck. Draco had to force the air back into his lungs after it felt like he had just plummeted off the astronomy tower. Seeing Hermione like this was gut-wrenching. He knew it could only end one way. When Bellatrix instructed him to kill her, he let out a sigh of relief. Maybe this would work on her. It was the only way. He looked at Snape. 'You have to mean it,' he remembered him saying. He knew that this was what he meant. Mean it. He pointed his wand at her, saying one incantation, but non-verbally casting another. Hermione's body went limp in Bellatrix's arms and her skin turned grey. He had no idea if it worked, and he felt himself collapse.

Hermione's smiling face.

Hermione's scowling face.

They passed Dumbledore's body as they swiftly exited the grounds toward an apparition point. Draco just wanted to sleep. He wanted to sleep forever. He wished he could just choke on his own vomit and die.

Hermione's dead face.

Tonks punched him in the jaw and his mother rushed to him as he hit the ground.

Hermione's sweet face.

He opened his eyes to the dusty walls of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place again, noticing the peeling wall paper that hung off of the walls. Remus Lupin stood over him with a blank expression on his face. He could not tell what he was thinking. Did he believe what he had just saw? Did he understand that Draco had no intention of killing Dumbledore, and that he in fact had planned to try to save him? Did he see that he did not mean to kill Hermione? That he loved Hermione? He wondered what Lupin would do with this new, sensitive information, but Draco was relieved that somebody knew.

"Well?" Draco said to him, feeling exhausted. Reliving all of those moments, whether they were agonizing or sacred, was almost too much for him to bear. Lupin wiped a hand across his forehead as he placed his wand in his vest pocket.

"Well, Remus?" Tonks said, echoing Draco. "What did you discover? Is he innocent?"

Lupin let out a long sigh. Draco knew he was no innocent. But he also knew he was not guilty either. He was somewhere in between, his fate resting on these people who stood before him, who hated everything he used to stand for. Who probably hated him just as much. "I discovered that we have a lot to discuss. I will gather the others. Take him to his _holding cell_." He said, then swiftly swept out of the room.

"Are you bloody joking? A holding cell? What the hell kind of a house is this?" Tonks started to laugh.

"Calm down, Malfoy. He's just being an ass. It's just a shitty little bedroom downstairs," she said, then she led him down a narrow staircase and into a room bathed in the light of a dimly lit lantern. "You will stay here. The door will be locked from the outside. And you don't have your wand, so there won't be much of a chance escaping."

"Better here than with my loony Aunt Andromeda," Draco muttered. Tonks held up her two fingers in a obscene gesture and shut the door behind her.

Lupin opened the door to one of the bedrooms on the second floor. Harry, Ron and Hermione sat on a bed, looking at the Marauder's Map.

"What are you three doing?" He said. The three quickly stashed away the parchment.

"Nothing!" Harry said quickly. Lupin cracked a small smile.

"There's an order meeting in fifteen minutes. Alert the others."

"What's the big rush?" Ron asked curiously.

"We have a prisoner," Lupin said as he began to turn aroud.

"A prisoner?" Hermione questioned. "Who is it?" Lupin exhaled deeply.

"We will discuss that at the meeting. Alert the others."

Hermione tiptoes past the kitchen where the Order Members were already beginning to assemble. She knew that she would find out who this new Order captive was soon enough when they had the meeting, but her curiosity got the best of her. She walked gently on the steps of the narrow staircase, treading lightly over the creaking stairs. There was a door at the bottom with dim firelight seeping out from beneath the crack of the door. She took out her wand as she reached the locked bedroom. She had to know who was inside.

"Alohomora."

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><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Well, there ya go, kids. I know it isn't the longest chapter or the most exciting, or suspenseful, but it's all I had in the tank for right now. Working and school have taken a toll on my mental capacity these days, and I know that the worst is yet to come. Please bear with me. I will finish this story, even if it does take me a while to get there. Please follow, favorite, and review and thank you for being so patient and loyal followers of Shedding Skin!


	26. Chapter 26

**Author's Note: **Hi guys! I am sorry it took FOREVER to get this chapter out. I have been in the middle of moving to my new house, finishing up loads of papers for school, and dealing with lots of crazy stuff at work, so I haven't had much time to write. But at long last, here it is. I hope you enojy it.

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><p><strong>26.<strong>

Hermione's heart pounded so hard she could feel it in pulsing in her ears and made her brain buzz as if bees were burrowing in her skull like a plank of wood. It was so loud that she could barely hear the voices of the other Order members upstairs as they gathered in the kitchen, waiting for the meeting that would soon adjourn. She had an odd feeling that she already knew who was behind this door at the bottom of the stairs. She turned the knob slowly, trying to catch her breath as it quickly escaped her, her wand still gripped tightly in her hand. If it was not who she was expecting, she had to be prepared to subdue them if they tried to attack her. She exhaled deeply and swung the door open.

She locked eyes with a boy sitting on the bed who resembled Draco Malfoy, but it took her a second to recognize him. He had the same blonde locks and the same grey eyes, but this was not the same person she had spent most of the school year with. This person lacked the usual untameable fire that Draco always harbored. His eyes were lackluster and glazed over in the candlelight, his skin was pale and sickly looking, and his soul seemed beaten down. Her last sweet memory of this boy in front of her was when they were in the Room of Requirement, tangled up in each others limbs and kissing like they needed each other to breathe. Now she looked upon this person, sullen and wan with a bruised cheek bone, knees pulled up tightly against his chest, and her stomach dropped to the floor. She remembered his face when he said those unforgivable words in her direction, his wand pointed between at her head. In that moment, she thought she saw nothing in his eyes. Nothing but the coldness that seemed to swallow the summer air around them. But what she failed to see was the remorse, the terror, the overwhelming grief he had that retreated behind the stone wall that he so often built to keep himself safe. And it turned him into this. This exhausted creature, a prisoner of war, sitting on a ratty old bed in the cellar of the Headquarters of the Order of the Pheonix. It felt like years. Not hours.

Hermione closed the door behind her, clicking the latch into place and dulling the sound of the growing voices upstairs. Draco stared at her, his eyes wide, not making a sound. She stuffed her wand in the back pocket of her jeans and strolled over to him cautiously, as not to frighten an already skittish animal. She cleared her throat lightly.

"H-hello," she said, hesitantly, still inching towards him. Draco stood up slowly, watching her every move, as if he were expecting her to wilt or blow away on a breeze.

"Hermione," he said softly as he made his way towards her, now looking a little less shaken. They were standing close together now as his hand traveled up to touch her warm, rosy cheek. "Is this real?" His thumb glided sweetly over her face. He remembered the last time he saw her after he thought he had killed her. She melted away from him like he was always afraid of. He did not want her to melt away from him now. Hermione placed her hand over his and leaned into his palm. "You're alive?"

"Of course I am," she whispered. Draco then threw his arms around her and pulled her into him, his face buried into her bushy brown curls.

"I'm so sorry," he sobbed into her neck. Hermione wrapped her arms across his back. "I'm so so sorry." Hermione made cooing noises at him.

"You had no choice. I know now that you had no choice."

"I could've killed you." Hermione broke away from him and place her hands on the sides of his face as she looked into his tearful, grey eyes.

"But you didn't. You saved me. I know that."

Draco's lips met hers with such a hungry force that she was startled at first, but then she pressed into him just as desperately. This raw emotion stirring between them was strong, and he pulled her closer to him as he kissed her with urgency. Her lips danced against his longingly. He broke away to nibble on her earlobe as she whispered his name against his neck. She nudged him onto the bed as he crumpled underneath her. His hands stroked up and down her back and around her waist, exploring every inch of her that he wished wasn't clothed. He was grateful to have her in his arms again, without the heaviness that weighed on him the last time they were this close.

She made sweet little noises as he kissed her all over, down her neck, across her collar bone, up her earlobe. His fingertips grazed the bottom hem of her blouse as he was eager to shove his hands up her shirt and explore to his heart's content. He refrained though. He was enjoying this fleeting moment with his Hermione, and he wanted to savor every last brush of skin, every small noise, every loving peck.

"I wanted to tell you something," Draco whispered into her ears as he lips grazed his cheek softly. "I wanted to tell you that night."

"What did you want to tell me?" She asked as her kissed trailed lightly along his jaw.

"That I love you."

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><p>"Hermione," Remus Lupin said as he stood at the head of the table, people gathered all around eating biscuits and holding folded newspapers, some of them holding back tears, like Mrs. Weasley. "What took you?" Hermione had to be sure her face was not red from blushing as she stashed away her secret meeting with their prisoner downstairs.<p>

"Just my stomach," she lied. "It hasn't had the easiest time waking up from the dead." There were some nervous chuckles around the room as Remus gestured for her to have a seat amongst the others.

"Well," he began, "now that we are all here, we have a great deal to discuss." Heads nodded and hands covered faces. "As you have all heard by now, Albus Dumbledore was killed last evening at Hogwarts." There were a few muffled sobs around the table as Remus looked down at his hands. "Death Eaters gained entry to the school and killed him on Voldemorts orders. The Death Eaters, unfortunately, were able to reach an apparition point outside the grounds and traveled to an unknown location. However," he paused for a moment as he scanned around the room, then rested his gaze on Hermione, "we did manage to apprehend one of the people who was instrumental in his death." Gasps and mumbles echoed around the room as the Order members shifted in their chairs. Hermione looked down, examining the grain of the wooden table, trying to hide the shame on her face. Just a few minutes ago, she had to pry herself off of this person of interest. "Now, before we go on deciding the fate of this person, we first must discuss the circumstances he faces."

"What is there to discuss?" Molly Weasley piped up as she held a handkercheif to her nose. "You said it yourself! This prisoner is the reason Dumbledore is dead!" Remus held up a hand to calm her.

"Yes, Molly, I know. But the whole story has not been considered."

"May I ask," Harry said from the far end of the table, "who this prisoner is?"

"Draco Malfoy." Harry's eyebrows creased into a frown and Ron's face became visibly purple with rage.

"I say we kill him," Ron said, the tone of his voice viciously sinister. "He's had it coming for years. Now he has finally given us a reason to."

"Now, Ron-"

"I agree!" Ginny said loudly. "Give him the same he gave Dumbledore!"

"He did not actually kill Dumbledore, Ginny. He-"

"Who cares? He's the reason he's dead! He even tried to kill Hermione!" Harry shouted.

"We saw him kill Hermione!"

"How can you possibly-"

Remus slammed his fist down on the table and the whole room got quiet. Hermione just pursed her lips as she continued to look down, not wanting to make eye contact with anyone around the table.

"I know that nobody trusts Malfoy. Over the years, he has given you reasonable belief that he is a follower of Voldemort. However, I happen to know differently." Hermione raised her head as Remus looked in her direction and gave her a sympathetic gaze. He knew. "Before I called this meeting, I used Legilimency on Draco Malfoy and saw that it was not his intention to kill Dumbledore. In fact, he was planning on saving him by means of Overlapping the killing curse with a spell that only mimicked death. However, the use of this technique on Hermione first drained him, and he was unable to do the same for Dumbledore." Nobody said a word, but looked at Hermione accusingly.

"Having said that-"

"Why was Hermione at the top of the Astronomy Tower in the first place?" Dedalus Diggle interrupted. "Surely there is no logical reason for her to have been up there so late at night for no reason?" Remus opened his mouth to protest, but was cut off.

"Yes, and why did Malfoy choose to Overlap the spell on her instead of Dumbledore?" A witch on the other side of the room chimed in.

"Well Bellatrix Lestrange was going to kill her," Remus concluded.

"That did not answer my question," she said snidely. "Why save a muggleborn girl instead of Dumbledore?"

Hermione's mouthed dropped open. "Excuse me?" She questioned, quite taken aback.

"I'm merely making an observation." Others around the room nodded in agreeance.

"Now, let's not get ahead of ourselves," Remus tried to gain control of the discussion once more.

"She has a point, you know," another wizard said. Harry and Ron's faces began to look puzzled as well.

"Just a moment ago, you all were ready to burn Malfoy at the stake. Now it's my fault that Dumbledore is dead?" Hermione raised her voice.

"Nobody is blaming you, dear," Mrs. Weasley said as she tried to calm Hermione down. "We are just trying to figure out-"

"Figure out what? If I had some kind of a hand in this? Why a Death Eater would save some worthless mudblood like me? I can't believe I am hearing this." Hermione stood up to leave as she slammed her chair into the wooden table when a menacing voice came from the doorway as she turned.

"Like I always say, Granger," Draco said as he stood in front of her, his eyes ablaze, "you can't trust anyone." He thrust a wand in her face that strongly resembled her own ivy one. Her hand quickly traveled to her back pocket. It wasn't there. "Especially a snake."

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Ya think ya know a guy. Well, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and until the next one, please please PLEASE follow, favorite, and review!


	27. Chapter 27

**Author's Note:** Well, at long last, here is the next chapter. I do apologize for it taking so long. Work and school and work and school and work and school have made life kinds dull. But, anyway, enough of my own problems. Back to the fic! I hope you enjoy it!

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><p><strong>27.<strong>

Draco's eyes were hollow and unfeeling as he pointed her own wand in her face like the long, menacing barrel of a loaded gun, his finger pressed lightly on the trigger. Gasps came from the table behind them as the members of the Order were startled at the sight of this prisoner who now had the upper hand over them. Hermione took a deep breath in and swallowed hard, trying to keep her composure at the hands of this unpredictable wild animal standing in front of her, willing to strike at the slightest movement.

"Malfoy," she said to him calmly. "How did you get my wand?" Draco scoffed at her as he flashed a ravenous smirk.

"Malfoy?" He said with a laugh. "Are we no longer on a first name basis, Granger?" Hermione felt her face become red. She did not know if it was out of anger or embarrassment. Draco looked around to see the puzzled looks around the room, his wand hand still holding strong, unwavering. He was enjoying watching Hermione squirm under his thumb. Hermione turned her head to catch a glimpse of Harry and Ron, who she knew weren't stupid. Surely they could have figured it out. Surely they understood what was, or used to be, between her and Draco Malfoy. She saw Ron's eyebrows furrow, and then an arm slung itself around her neck and she was pinned against Draco's chest, a wand digging into her temple. Then, his lips rested just a hair away from her ear lobe as he hissed softly so only she could hear. "Oh, come now, Hermione. You know exactly how I got your wand." She felt his free hand slide lightly down the curve of her side, brushing gently, sickeningly, over an inch of skin peaking out from her blouse, then down the seat of her jeans. Her stomach jolted.

He held her against him tightly. It reminded her of the times he held her lovingly, but this new, menacing embrace made her want to vomit. She closed her eyes tightly, begging the scared tears to keep from flowing from her eyes as he held her hostage, using her own source of protection as a weapon against her. "Don't even think about it, half-breed!" Draco yelled to Lupin as he attempted to reach for his wand. The whole room was still, as if someone had frozen time, and the air was thick and unmoving like it had been blocked out by concrete. With Hermione gripped tightly under his arm, Draco took cautious steps backward until he was out of the kitchen, away from the people who were almost willing to liberate him. A bead of sweat dripped from Lupin's eyebrow as he watched helplessly as Draco passed the threshold and slammed the door. Everyone in the kitchen scrambled to their feet, tripping over each other, shoving their wands in their hands and ready to send curses flying. Lupin slung the kitchen door open and wiith a loud _crack_, Draco was gone from the house, and Hermione was sprawled on the floor, massaging her neck where his unflinching arm had just had a hold of her.

Harry was the first one to kneel beside Hermione, the tears now flowing freely down her face. Harry and Ron attempted to pick her up off of the floor, but she batted them away from her. The rest of the Order looked upon her, still in shock, their wands still raised.

"And you were all ready to throw me to the dementors," she said angrily, her face covered in wet, pink splotches.

"Hermione, that's not at all-" Harry tried to pacify her, but she pushed him away as she stood up.

"I cannot believe you two," she said softly toward Harry and Ron, then stormed through the entry hall and out the front door into the littered streets of the city.

Hermione trotted purposefully down the street, light by street lamps and the promise of sunrise, the moist asphalt from a light drizzle earlier in the night splashing up on her, and the humid, summery air making her skin sticky and her hair start to become untame. She wiped a tear quickly from her face. She heard a door slam behind her, and she began to walk even faster, trying to escape the person who had come out to try and rescue her from herself.

"Hermione!" She heard Harry calling after her still a ways behind. "Hermione, please stop!" She spun around, her face hot with anger and ebbing tears. She was mad at Harry. He sat by, surrounded by people who doubted her, who believed she was partly the cause of Dumbledore's death, and said nothing. But at least he was here, trying to get her to turn around. Ron was nowhere in sight.

"Go back inside," she ordered him. Then she turned and continued to walk briskly down the road illuminated by dirty street lamps.

"Where are you even going? Hermione, please talk to me."

"Talk to you? Harry, you allowed them to treat me like a criminal in there!" Harry was silent for a second, but he continued to follow her, picking up his pace to match hers. "Why are you still following me?"

"Hermione," he said, his voice no longer sounding desperate, but softer, as if he was trying to understand something. "What is going on between you and Malfoy?" Hermione stopped beneathe the light of a street lamp, the sky lightening up as the sun peaked from behind the distant buildings. Her breaths turned shaky as she shivered for no reason.

"You wouldn't understand," she said softly.

"What wouldn't I understand?" She turned around to face him. He was ten feet from her, his arms dangling awkwardly at his sides.

"You don't understand anything! You're Harry Potter, the Chosen One! You have everything handed to you, all the help in the world is placed right at your feet without you even having to ask. You aren't fighting in this war alone!"

"Neither are you!" Harry raised his voice, the desperation becoming noticeable again. Hermione scoffed.

"You have no idea! I wake up, terrified every morning, wondering if this is the day that somebody is going to kill me. Kill me for no reason besides my dirty blood. In this world, I am nothing but i mangy cur that people look at and wonder why I haven't been put down yet. They look at you, and see hope. They look at me and see-"

"Don't think like that, Hermione. You're brilliant. Everybody knows it."

Hermione just shook her head.

"Brilliance means nothing in a world of prejudice." Just then, she heard the door slam again and a blur of red hair came running towards them. "Tell Ron I'm sorry." With a turn of her heel and a faint _pop_, Hermione was gone as the streetlamps began to turn off and the sun was finally visible low in the inky blue sky.

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><p>Harry and Ron entered Number 12 Grimmauld Place without Hermione in tow. The members of the Order were all huddled in the entry way, talking in alarmed tones, still visibly shaken at the events that had just unfolded in front of them. Lupin was standing in the middle of the group, looking rather rattled himself, but trying to contain the hysterics of the crowd gathered around him. Once they all realized that Harry and Ron had come through the front door, their attention immediately shifted to them.<p>

"Where is she? Why isn't she with you?" Emmeline Vance said, obviousy disturbed at the accusations she had made towards Hermione earlier.

"What was all that business that the Malfoy boy was saying?" Dedalus Diggle said suspiciously.

"Now's not the time, Dedalus!" Molly Weasley piped up, her voice cracking from rising tears. "We shouldn't have been so hard on her, the poor dear!" Lupin made his way through the scrambling group and reached Harry and Ron.

"Boys," he said, his face stricken with worry. "Where is she? It's too dangerous for her to be alone out there, given everything that is going on!"

"I tried to stop her," Harry said. "But she wouldn't listen. She was just so angry. About everything. I tried to talk to her, try to figure out what all was going on, but she just disapparated. I don't know where she was going." Lupin's face looked discouraged. Hermione could be anywhere, could be in any sort of danger and they would have no way of knowing. He hammered his fist against the wall, causing clouds of dust to billow from the cracks in the peeling wallpaper.

"How could we have been so careless?" He muttered under his breath. Then he got an interested look across his face. "Harry, you said she disapparated?" Harry nodded. "But Malfoy had her wand? How could she have apparated without a-" A look of shock suddenly draped itself across his face. "Dora, will you please fetch Malfoy's wand for me?" Tonks bowed slightly and rushed up the stairs to obey him. Lupin rubbed a hand over his face and jammed his knuckles in his already bloodshot eyes. The whole group was quiet, eager to know what was unfolding in Lupin's ever-working mind. Moments later, Tonks came barrelling down the stairs, her hands empty.

"It's not where I left it. I swear I left it right-" Lupin held out a hand and shook his head.

"She's got it. Hermione has Malfoy's wand."

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><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>SHOCKER! I am sure some of you figured it out way before. Of course she had his wand! Y'all are so clever. Sorry that it was way WAY shorter than the previous chapters. I just feel like I was very to-the-point in this one. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and once again I am so sorry it took so long to get out to you guys. I'm a bust busy girl, after all. Until next time, my lovelies, stay true, and remember to follow, favorite, and review!


	28. Chapter 28

**Author's Note: **Hey y'all! I aplogize for making you wait MONTHS for the update. I started my new job and have been trying to plan this wedding, so I hope you can forgive the long hiatus. Enjoy the chapter!

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><p><strong>28.<strong>

The smell of fuel and concrete filled Hermione's nose as the world zoomed in and out and in again right in front of her eyes, causing her to sway slightly as her body snatched at equilibrium. She stepped back quickly as a train zoomed by her, but this place was nearly empty, and her footfalls echoed along the underground walls. She swept the back of her hand across her cheek bone quickly, wiping any remnants of tears away. What happened just a few moments earlier at Grimmauld place was not what she had expected, but it was hardly a surprise to her. Being a muggleborn came with prejudices from even those most loyal to the good cause. Trustworthiness was always in question, especially now in times of war. She did not care what Emmeline Vance or Dedalus Diggle thought of her. They barely even knew her aside from the fact that she was the bushy-haired girl at the end of the table at the Order meetings. What particularly upset her was the way her best friends had failed to take her side when she was being railroaded for Dumbledore's death. Another train flew by her, filling her ears with the clanging from the tracks. She did not hear a person come up behind her as a hand reached around to cover her mouth. She attempted a scream when she was pulled backward gently into her captor, and a tender _shhh_ swept into her ear. She did not turn around, but instead allowed herself to sink further into his hold.

"Did anyone see you come here?" The voice questioned softly. Hermione shook her head. "Does anybody suspect?" She wanted to let out a chuckle as she turned around to face Draco, his expression so much warmer and caring than his cold stare she last saw. Their plan had worked. Hermione wondered if she would be able pull it off, but after being accused by everyone she trusted, she found it easy to turn her back on them and follow the person who needed her help most. Plus, over the last year, she found it increasingly easy to lie. Draco pulled her into him as a draft blew past them.

"You were very convincing," Hermione said, "a bit frightening, actually." Draco scoffed as his arms tightened around her and he left a shallow kiss on her forehead.

"I've had lots of practice being a bastard. It oddly felt like home." Hermione wanted to stay like this, lost in his embrace, but she noticed the trains were coming more often, and the muggles would start pouring in to the Underground to make their early morning commutes. She broke away from him and reached in her back pocket, removing a long, sleek, black wand from its hiding place.

"It resisted me. I had quite the time just getting here, you know," she said as she handed his wand back to him. Draco grabbed it quickly as he reached for her wand in his jacket pocket.

"I rather enjoyed yours. Its magic left a fruity taste in my mouth. I think I'll keep it." He held her wand playfully over her head.

"Over my dead body!" She said without thinking. Draco's playful demeanor withered away and his boyish smirk turned over into a depressed frown. Hermione quickly pressed her lips against his in an apology, and grabbed his hand to lead him out of the Underground.

They trotted down the streets of London as the sun was now visible in the lightening sky and the street lamps were turning off, one by one. Hermione was very familiar with the territory around Baker Street, but Draco was visibly uncomfortable as he was way out of his usual element.

"Remind me where you are taking me?" Draco said as his head swung around, trying to get a look at all the enormous and shiny muggle buildings around him and the cars whizzing through colored lights hanging above the roads.

"Someplace safe," Hermione said as she trotted along the cracked sidewalk. "My parents are on vacation for another two weeks. I put a Fidelius charm on the house before I left for term. It's just about a mile away."

Draco dodged a man on a bike who seemed to have no regard for pedestrians. "And why couldn't we have just met at the Leaky Cauldron or something? I could hide out there!"

Hermione gave a scoff. "No, you bloody well could not have! All of Diagon Alley is crawling with Death Eaters." Draco looked disbelieving. "Believe it or not, the Order is a step ahead of Voldemort."

"Then why aren't they winning?" Draco said under his breath. Just then, a low snarl came from behind them. Draco did not have to look back to recognize that it was Fenrir Greyback. Without a second's pause, Draco gripped Hermione's wrist tightly, and bolted across the street. As they fled, curses flew toward them from unknown casters in all directions as they ducked left and right. Soon, Hermione led the way as she ripped her wand out and swiftly unlocked a door to a building and sneaked inside.

"Lumos," Hermione whispered as a small string of light emulated from the tip of her wand. Draco gave out a small shriek when he was met face-to-face with Queen Elizabeth herself. Hermione grabbed his arm as he stared at her curiously, her cheeks cemented in a smile and her gloved hand held up permanently in a graceful, political wave.

"What is this place?" Draco whispered as they passed a group of four figures, all wearing dark suits with hair nearly covering their eyes, each holding some instrument.

"It's Madame Tussaud's," she said as they weaved in and out of the stiff people.

"Are these people-"

"They're made of wax, Draco." Heavy footsteps echoed at the front of the large building, and were gaining fast. Hermione's heart began racing. They had already passed The Beatles, hadn't they? They were going in circles in this maze of famous wax figures, and the Death Eaters were closing in.

"Hermione, we need to hide!" Draco said as the Death Eaters were nearly right on top of them. Hermione shoved Draco into a hollow behind a figure of Cher.

"Stay right here and do not move!" She ordered him, and she herself ducked behind a cluster of figures, and positioned herself posing like a super model. Even though Draco was terrified, he found her position rather sexy. His straying thoughts were rushed away when he heard the low growling of Fenrir Greyback coming closer to him. He could smell the stench of dirt and old blood wafting through the building.

"Rowle, go that way. Find that mudblood girl."

"Who was that with her?" Rowle questioned.

"I did not see. Could have been Harry Potter."

"Harry Potter? I'd love to take him back to-" Greyback let out a vicious bark.

"Potter is mine to take back to the Dark Lord. If you touch one hair on his head..." Greyback flashed his red-stained teeth as Rowle, and then turned around when he heard a small squeak and a call from another Death Eater.

"Found the Granger girl, sir!" A man with matted black hair stepped toward Fenrir Greyback with a chokehold around Hermione's neck. Greyback stepped toward her and caressed her face. He let out a chuckle.

"Now for Potter. If it indeed were him with you this morning, Mudblood, he would not be able to resist coming to your rescue." He snatched Hermione from the Death Eater and held his wand up to her throat. "Come out, come out, Potter! Come save your precious, disgusting girlfriend!" There was no answer, but Hermione could see a flash of blonde hair begin to move towards them. "Hmm," Greyback said, sounding disappointed. "I guess ole Potty isn't going to play with us today. Oh well, I'm sure you will tell us where he is once we are back at the mansion. Let's go. This place is giving me the creeps." Greyback gripped her tighter, and on a turn of a dime, they vanished into thin air.

Once her feet were flat on the ground again, she was still locked in Fenrir Greyback's hold. She stood in the middle of what looked like a sitting room, with ornate pieces of silver and green upholstered furniture, twelve-foot ceilings with intricate patterns on the walls, and a large rug covering a shiny, polished oak floor. Aside from the stench of rotting flesh and old blood that came from her captor, the air around her smelled like potpourri and cedar chips. It reminded her of the smell of Draco's clothes and hair. Her suspicions were confirmed when a man with long, silvery-blonde hair strolled toward her, his arms outstretched as if he were welcoming an old friend into his home. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his skin was pale and wrinkled, as if the last year had aged him twenty years.

"Ah, Miss Granger," Lucius Malfoy said as he stopped in front of her and looked her in the eyes. His mock pleasantry could hardly disguise his disgust at the Mudblood presence in the middle of his home. "Welcome to Malfoy Manor. I hope you will find your stay here," he paused as if to reflect on his choice of words, "_enlightening_." He gave a small chuckle, his cracked lips spreading across his teeth as he gestured behind him. The clicking of heels echoed against the walls and ceilings as an all-too familiar hiss filled her ears. "You remember my sister-in-law, Bellatrix?" Bellatrix Lestrange now stood in front of her, her tongue gliding over her teeth and her eyes burning like lit coals as she glared toward Hermione. "I will let you two get better acquainted," he said with an evil wink. "Come Fenrir, Thorfinn. There are scones in the dining room." Hermione felt like vomiting. Lucius sounded like a housewife, as if he were hosting a tea party in his proper little cottage with all of the little old ladies in the neighborhood. This house was filled with evil. Murderers. Psychopaths. And she was standing inches away from one of the worst, staring into the black hole that sought to extinguish all light within her reach.

"I'm going to ask this once. Where is Potter?" She held up her wand threateningly, her eyes both crazed and emotionless all at the same time. Hermione's voice quivered as she barely managed to say 'I don't-' before a wave of electrocuting pain shot up her spine and she fell to the floor, writhing in unspeakable screams reverberated off of the walls, and once they made it back to her ears, she wondered if it was even her voice. The pain kept coming, like she was shoved in a meat grinder and her bones and muscles and skin was all being torn up and mashed together into gravy. She heard a small _clink_ on the floor beside her head when the pain stopped, and Bellatrix eyes something carefully. A small golden feather dangling around her neck was resting on the floor beside her. Bellatrix bent down, just as words began to inscribe themselves before her eyes.

_I'm coming._

Bellatrix snatched the feather from the floor, snapping the golden chain from around Hermione's neck with a high pitched cackle.

"Potty ole Potter is coming to play!" she giggled as she danced around the sitting room. She clutched the feather to her chest as she yanked Hermione off of the floor.

"Come on," she spat. "We will tell the rest the good news."

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><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>So, there it is! Sorry that I left you on a bit of a cliff, but it was murder just trying to get all of my thoughts down. After all, it took months! I am going to try to be quicker next time. I really am going to try. But until then, please follow, favorite and REVIEW!


	29. Chapter 29

**Author's Note: **OMG I am SOOOO sorry. There is no excuse for why it has taken me four months to update this story. Although, I did start a new job in surgery, and I am just trying to keep my head above water. I will say that since I switched jobs, my life seems to be feeling a lot fuller and easier to deal with, so maybe now it will be easier to get my heads into this story instead of trying to get it out of that traumatizing job I was once in. Anyway, here is chapter 29 and I hope you enjoy it.

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><p><strong>29.<strong>

Draco held his wand tightly as his palms became slippery with cold sweat. His heart was galloping against his sternum and his eyes were blurry with something. Sweat? Tears? His hair falling over his brow? He wiped his sleeve across his forehead and knocked desperately against the old oak door. It could only have been a few seconds, but it felt like hours before he heard footsteps walking toward the door from inside. It was like a stampede was coming to greet him. He snatched a gold chain from around his neck and gripped it in his other hand. He had to let her know he was coming for her. The door swung open and he was met with a bush of deep purple hair.

"Oy!" Tonks said as she snatched him inside by his collar. Her hair turned a terrifying shade of blood red. "What the bloody hell are you doing back here, Malfoy? Come to finish the job? Where's Hermione, ay? In a ditch somewhere?" She quickly let go of his collar when she noticed his cheeks turning a hue of grey. Draco grasped for air as about ten people gawked at him. He noticed that Harry and Ron were not among them. He was grateful for this.

"She's at the Manor. We have to go." Tonks raised her eyebrows incredulously.

"Why would we ever go with you to the Manor? You betrayed us once. I'm not very keen on letting it happen again."

"Betrayed you?" Malfoy shouted? "You kidnapped me, broke into my mind and stole the information you wanted. Then you locked me in the basement without my wand and-"

"Your wand!" Tonks said as her eyes flew to the sleek, black wand in his hand. "You gave your wand to Hermione."

"Yes," he said, "and she gave it back to me at the rendezvous point."

"There where is she now if she isn't with you?" Tonks questioned loudly.

"I already told you! She's at the Manor! The Death Eaters caught her and are questioning her where Potter is! Where is Potter anyway?"

"Out looking for Hermione. And you too. Probably hoping to blast your head off." Tonks looked back at the other members of the Order, and noticed their faces were full of regret and worry. Hermione had left because of their blame, and now she was in the hands of the Death Eaters, and soon in the hands of Lord Voldemort.

"Well, we must go save the poor thing!" Molly Weasley piped up from the back as she shoved her way through the group, her red hair coming out of it's once-neat bun. Kingsley Shacklebolt put his large, dark hand on her shoulder as she quaked.

"I agree. Hermione knows a lot about the Order."

"What does that matter?" Molly shouted as she plucked his hand off of her. "She would never speak a word! We save her because she's just a child! And she's one of us!"

"Alright, so let's go!" Draco said as he headed toward the door. A head tightened around his arm as nails dug sharply into his skin.

"No. You stay here in case you are trying to trick us again. We will go. Kingsley, send Remus a patronus and let him know we are headed for the Malfoys."

"You won't be able to get in! It's under the Fidelius Charm."

"And you think they haven't changed it since you left them for a muggle girl?" Someone in the back of the group chimed in. Draco's face became visibly red. She was more than just a 'muggle girl.'

"No," he said sharply. "They think I'm dead." Tonks read the story in his eyes, and simply nodded.

"Right. Let's go."

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><p>The sun was high in the sky now. It was difficult to keep cover as the apparated onto an empty road on the edge of the Scottish countryside. The group quickly trotted off the road into a copse of trees.<p>

"We will wait here for Remus and the boys," Tonks said as she kept an eye on the road. "How far to the main gate?"

"About a quarter mile. Just beyond that bend over there." Draco said. He could just barely see the tip of the chimney from where they were hiding.

"Will there be a guard?" Kingsley questioned. Draco shrugged his shoulders.

"There's usually somebody walking about the front, but if the Dark Lord arrives, they will all be inside, eager to kiss his pale, dusty ass." The wind began to pick up as three figures emerged in the middle of the road. Tonks made a sound imitating a grouse, catching the attention of Remus, Harry and Ron, and they ducked behind the trees to meet the group. Ron's eyes landed on Draco immediately, and Draco could see his knuckles turning white with rage. Any other time, Draco would have loved nothing more than to say something snarky, hoping Ron would lift his want at him, and then Draco could hex him into the next year, but this was much bigger than any Hogwarts quarrel. This was the love of his life, trapped like a wild animal in a house full of predators, hungry for flesh.

Hermione's body was paralyzed and suspended in air above a long, mahogany dining room table. Ringlets of her hair were plastered to her face in a mixture of tears and blood. Her arm stung as a small trickle of red dripped from the word _Mudblood _etched in her skin. Even if she was not being held hostage by the body-bind curse, she would not be able to move her body. She was exhausted from the torture, from the constant electricity running over her every muscle fiber and the grinding on her bones that made her crumble. She was out of tears. She was out of energy.

She was out of time.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, my dear loyal followers, my faithful subjects. I feel that today will be a day to remember," a voice hissed from the head of the table. The voice seemed so calm and gentle, but beneath the balmy tone there was evil dripping from his lips, like venom seeping from the fangs of a viper, so eager and ready to strike. Hermione heard a slithering beneath her as his pet, Nagini, slid across the table, waiting for her meal. "Miss Hermione Granger is our most honored guest today. She is the brightest witch of her age, and loyal friend Harry Potter. It is because of her that we are so happily gathered here today. You see, Harry Potter cares deeply for this mudblood, and because she is in our hands, soon, he will be also." Menacing grins and a high pitched giggle were heard from around the table as the Death Eaters rejoiced. She hoped Harry did not come. She hoped Draco did not come.

No one else needed to die but her, and she was fine with that. A martyr to the cause.

Or just one less filthy muggleborn tainting the earth. She did not care which.

It seemed like hours she had been floating there staring blankly at the dusty chandelier draped above her. She soon tuned out the tones of the Death Eaters below her and made faces out of the designs on the ceiling. Spots began to dance in front of her eyes. She was succumbing to something. Either sleep or death. Her eyes closed as she gave in to the exhaustion, her rigid body beginning to soften, the noises echoing off of the high ceilings beginning to dwindle. She was jerked back into reality by the sound of splintering wood, and shattering glass. People were shouting and running around, spells and hexes flying every which way. Then she was falling, her limbs were no longer bound. She fell into strong arms and taken away from all of the noise.

"She's so pale," she heard a desperate voice say.

"She's still breathing though?" A female voice asked.

"Just barely. Merlin, the poor thing. Tonks, you have the dittany? And the lavender? Good. Harry, you stay here with Tonks. And both of you, keep your wands out!" Hermione attempted to open her eyes, to see her saviors' faces, and thank them for helping her escape death. She could barely flutter her eyelids when a soft hand carressed her forehead.

"Sshh," she heard Tonks say softly. "You will be alright now."

"W-what's going-" Hermione's mouth was so dry that she could barely form words.

"The Order is here. We are going to finish them." Hermione just nodded.

"Draco?" Hermione asked.

"He's fine. He's with us. Now hush."

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><p>"Where's Hermione?" Draco shouted over the noise as he hurled hexes left and right. Remus Lupin was on his other side, deflected bursts of orange and green light.<p>

"She's safe with Tonks and Harry. Come on, we need to get Voldemort."

"No!" Draco said as he attempted to break away from Lupin. "I need to see her!"

"Malfoy! It is your fault she got in this mess in the first place. She does not need you now!" A streak of blue just barely grazed Lupin's ear as he shot a stunning curse at a scragly looking Death Eater, sending him hurdling through the air and banging against the fireplace. Draco's ears turned red. How dare he act like he knew what she needed. She did need him. He knew because he needed her as well. But Lupin was right. She was safe with Tonks and Harry. And Voldemort needed to die.

Most of the Death Eaters had now either been subdued or had fled as they walked through the back door into the garden. A tall, thin figure stood in front of them, the elder wand held loosely in his grasp as he appeared to greet them.

"Bravo," he said nonchalantly. "You have managed to break my ranks. Which is not very impressive, considering they were all a lot of cowards." Remus and Kingsley shot curses at him at the same time, which he blocked effortlessly. He laughed under his breath. "It is amusing that you think you may take me down in the same manner. And as fun as this has been, I, sadly, must be going now."

"We're not finished with you!" Draco said as he clambered his way tot he front of the group. Voldemort looked surprised to see him.

"Draco? What a pleasure to see you! I thought you had died. You certainly look it, but alas. Here. Let me finish the job for you." Voldemort held up his wand. "Avada Ked-" Before he could finish the incantation, streams of light from ten wands burst forth and knocked him backwards, breaking his concentration. His eyes glowed red as he examined the group standing before him. With a growl, he flipped his cloak and disappeared into thin air. The members of the Order barely had enough time to process what had just happened before they heard a cackle coming from inside the house.

A cackle that only ended in the unspeakable.

The cackle of Bellatrix Lestrange.

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Well folks, there you have it. Not the best chapter since I am a little rusty from the months passed without writing, but I said what I wanted to have said. So now Bellatrix is the force to be reckoned with, and I think we all know what room in the house she is cackling from. I promise that I will not let it go that long again without updating, and like I said before, you have my sincerest apologies for making you wait this long for this chapter. Please, follow, favorite and review to tlel me what you think!


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